


A Broken Wish

by xinnarose



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Archer - Freeform, Arturia Pendragon - Freeform, Caster Gilgamesh, Excalibur, F/M, Gilgamesh (Fate) Being Gilgamesh (Fate), Post-Fate/Zero, Romance, Saber - Freeform, Saber x Archer, Slow Romance, its caster gil but archer is more popular tehe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23912875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xinnarose/pseuds/xinnarose
Summary: The Grail War has ended, and Arturia emerges victorious. Against her master’s wishes, she undoes her time as king, but her hope comes at a cost. Rather than undoing her decision, the grail has brought her to a time before she exists. Her time as king is inevitable. At first she wonders why she was sent to such a specific time, but soon finds her answer after encountering a familiar King.
Relationships: Gilgamesh | Archer/Artoria Pendragon | Saber
Comments: 133
Kudos: 189





	1. Prologue

“Saber… you don’t have to do this. You could wish to stay here… create a new life for yourself. You can-”

“If I recall correctly, it is my sword that has undone our enemies. If you wanted a say in this matter, you should have fought by my side with a weapon in hand,”

Arturia could wish for a second life, but she wouldn’t. Such a luxury was not befitting of a woman so unworthy of her kingship, or so she thought. The woman knew her words were harsh. However, no matter the loyalty she held for her master, her heart still belonged to her country, even centuries after her downfall. It was ironic, she thought. Such a selfless, perfect person, held a selfish and foolish wish. Even Iskander’s slander, though hurtful, could not sway her unwavering belief, nor that conceited man’s affront laughter. 

The woman sauntered towards the golden chalice, her master falling silent. Her soft fingers wrapped around the cup’s hilt, a taut grip ascending it towards her gaze. Her victories amounted to this, to the satisfaction of bringing her hopes to fruition. Her success resided in her hands, yet an ominous undertone plagued the moment. The former king’s emerald eyes laid unwavering upon the grail, her actions betraying her instincts.

Arturia turned around herself, her eyes locking with her master’s. “Thank you, master, I…” words evaded her. Her mind spiraled in thought, saddened that her time in this era was ending, even if her wish was finally being granted. Her master’s solemn expression left her speechless, his irate gaze underlined by unmistakable melochaly. It was said the King never understood her subject’s emotions, though now it seemed she understood too well. Her actions were burdened by her master’s expression, but she had come so far. Too far. Her dream was in reach, and she’d take it, even if hated. It’s what she had to do, she told herself. It’s what she had always told herself. 

“I’m sorry, master.” she finished, her voice cracking. It was a genuine apology, but failed to rectify her actions. Nothing could, and she painfully realized that. Unexpectedly, the man mustered a weak smile, untainted by any former adversity. 

“If this is your wish, I will not burden you with my sadness. I hope you are content with your decision,” his gentle tone pierced her skin. Suddenly, she understood Lancelot’s lunacy. Unpunished by the person you wronged was a pain she had never known, and it crashed down upon her with unparalleled force. Tears began forming, but a grin curled her lips. Arturia nodded. With not another word to him, the grail now occupied her attention. 

“I wish… to live in an era devoid of my kingship. To spare my people their suffering!” her declarant tone was unmistakable. It was a king’s voice, no matter how she scorned herself. The woman brought the cup to her lips, the grail’s contents sliding down her throat. Her grip upon the chalice never relented, even as she brought it away. Her body slowly began fading, minute golden particles taking the place of her limbs. It did not hurt, and satisfaction finally eased her. 

“Thank you, master…” the woman, the king, was no longer in sight.


	2. A Stranger in a Foreign Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arturia has finally made her wish, but is met with unfamiliar terrain.

It was hot, excruciatingly so. The heat bore into her skin and met her body with immense discomfort. She stirred, finally regaining consciousness, but cognizant thought was not sufficient to bring an answer to her current predicament. She laid upon a soft bed of sand, surrounded by more of the odd substance. She was unfamiliar with it, only accustomed to the green hills of Britain and countless buildings of Fuyuki City. The woman scavenged her surroundings, but only mountains of sand filled her sight.

She refused to cede to her fatigue, but found it necessary to adapt to her new environment. Swiftly, her armor and dress withdrew and were replaced by her casual attire, a black ensemble called a “suit” by her former master. Her hair now fell upon her neck in a low ponytail. The woman proceeded to remove the jacket, finding slight relief in doing so. Though not much of an improvement in clothing, it would have to suffice for the moment. She was pleased to see there was still access to her mana, even if wavering. Arturia summoned her holy sword, but lacked the sufficient energy to conceal the blade. At least she would have her weapon if met with danger. The sword once more vanished.

Though difficult, the blonde forced herself to rise, finding that sand clinged to her clothes and body. Exasperated, she used what little energy she had to send a current of wind down her body, ridding her of the pesky particles. It worked well, the girl now satisfied. However, now the true difficulty was to be faced.

The king had never felt so undignified. Though she did not pride herself on being above others, finding herself in such a predicament was unforeseen, never even conceived as a mere thought. Perhaps this was her punishment for such an futile wish, the grail’s divine judgement upon her insolence. Perhaps she deserved this, a fruitless search for salvation that would never be in sight. Just like her wish. How symbolic, and so tragic.

A gentle sigh escaped her parched lips. She was neither scornful nor saddened, rather numb to such trivial feelings. The king had no room for them, for she brought this conflict upon herself. One foot dragged in front of the other, the sun’s continuous intensity furthering her adversity. It was rather sad, she thought, how complacent she was with her own failure. Why would the Grail do this? The question stirred tirelessly within her mind. With nothing else to occupy her thoughts, she found herself dwelling on the uncertainty. The blonde tried to recall her wish and the entirety of the event in search of an answer.

_“I wish… to live in an era devoid of my kingship,”_

  
That damned cup.

Arturia descended to her knees, her hands extended downward to catch her fall. She cursed at the goblet, then at herself. “What a fool…” the words fell from her lips unaccompanied by hesitation. The Grail had granted her wish, but she failed to specify her covet properly. This was not a punishment, no, it was as she said. It _was_ an era devoid of her kingship, a time before, or even after, her reign. How long, she did not know, but the shame was undeniable. Once again, it was her fault, no one else’s.

The tears were brief. Either due to her acceptance or her dehydration, but it did not matter. She was grateful nonetheless, the ‘unfeeling’ king not too fond of sobbing. Finally relenting, her chest met with the ground, her body unmoving. It was a pathetic sight, beckoning memories of her last moments at the Battle of Camlann. Only this time, a loyal knight would not be there to soften her adversity. Yes, this time, she was alone, prey to nature’s limited mercy. Arturia’s eyes fluttered, consciousness slowly slipping away.  
_________________________________

“Her hair shines like our King’s, Ninki. This resemblance shall not go ignored, for she may be of royalty. It would be wise to turn her in,” spoke a determined voice, clearly belonging to a woman. Arturia’s eyes remained closed, not yet regaining mobility in her body. She felt weak, but her unquenched thirst seemed to have depleted somewhat. She was grateful, but muddled. The girl wondered of her current location, but deduced that a kind samaritan had come across her lying in the desert and decided to provide her with help. Though uncertain of how, she would show her appreciation.

“But what if she is taken prisoner, Irkalla? She is of no harm to us. I simply plan to heal her and allow her the freedom of leaving,” a more hesitant voice responded, likely belonging to her savior. “She is not of this region. Look at her clothes, she may be a lost foreigner. The king has more worrisome matters, I doubt this small girl could be a threat,” though grateful for her reluctance to deliver her to the king, Arturia couldn’t help but flinch at her words. The former king had always been seen as a warrior, a dangerous beauty, never viewed under such a naive scope. Perhaps it was to her benefit, if she does not seem menacing, her survival was more guaranteed. Though this person, apparently named ‘Ninki’, was wrong in her assumptions, she would adopt a non-threatening appearance. For now, at least.

She’d never idled so much in her life. It was always one thing after the other for the King of Knights, dealing with new threats every day. Whether it be famine, or drought, or an incoming invasion, there was rarely time for repose for Arturia, and on the rare occasion there was, she failed to sleep soundly. The life of a king is-... was dangerous. There were constant threats on her life. Many craved to see her dead, or stripped of her power. Even some of her own knights held this cruel desire, but her unbroken vigilance kept her alive. Thus was the life of a ruler, and she’d known the dangers the moment she drew Caliburn from the stone. And yet she was still audacious enough to hold rues. She once more internally cursed herself.

Arturia heard an exasperated sigh. Irkalla, she assumed, was rather annoyed by this woman’s demurral, and the blonde felt guilty for putting the two in such a position. The girl’s eyes opened slowly, her emerald orbs meeting the light in discourse. The bright rays stung, causing her to quickly shield her face with her arm. An involuntary groan left her lips, catching the women’s attention. She steadied herself, removing her arm from her face to welcome the light upon her skin. In little time, she was able to adjust, but it felt like eons before she was able to see clearly.

“Are you alright?” The question pierced her with driven force. No, she wasn’t, but she was not so much a fool to disclose her personal struggle upon a stranger, even if that stranger was her savior. Additionally, the blonde felt no desire to further her concern, and thus resolved to put up a tough front, just as she always did. The girl sat forward with her chest held high, the stance of a true king. She was still clad in the black suit, differing greatly from the cream colored and shapeless dress the women adorned. It was simplistic in design, appearing as though loose fabric was draped over their bodies with a belt accentuating their waist.

“Yes. I thank you for your succor, it has immensely improved my physical being. Please allow me to show my appreciation in any way you see fit,” her right hand laid upon heart, her head bowing slightly to be polite. The gesture was unfamiliar to the women, the two looking at each other in search of an answer. Though curious, they did not inquire further.

“Do feel at ease. Your well-being is reward enough for my help. I am Ninki,” her lips curled into a gentle smile. Such warmth was so unknown to the king. Her former master had given her a slice of this humanity, and she traded it for a dubious wish. More regret filled her, but she kept these matters internal. It was of no use to dump her feelings upon this woman.

“Ninki… I truly am grateful for your hospitality. It would be unbefitting of me to not repay you. I ask again, please give me anything to do,” she was rather insistent. Though due to her kind nature, she always disliked being in other’s debt, even to someone this kind. Arturia doubted the woman would take advantage of this debt, but the lingering paranoia was not easily ridden of. Ninki looked to the other woman who displayed a stern expression, clearly not as trusting as her counterpart. The blonde admired this, and feared it. Distrust was tantamount to danger, just as destructive. She would be sure to dance around any reason for her to further her suspicion.

“Make her accompany you in the market to help with retrieving food and water. She can carry your items,” Irkalla spoke unamused, uninterested. Arturia was more than willing to complete the task. In spite of her small frame, she held unparalleled strength many could only hope to reach. Ninki looked to the woman. The more she observed, the more she realized the resemblance between the two. Could they be sisters? It was an insignificant inquiry, but the girl could not restrain her curiosity. “That sounds fitting, as long as you feel well enough for the task, er-”

“Arthur,” interrupted the blonde. She surprised even herself. It had been ages since she’d aligned herself with the alias, an undeniable pain accompanying the name, yet it also made her nostalgic. Despite the heartache and regret that plagued her former life, she was not completely ashamed. There were good times, even if she did not fully recognize them in the moment…

It truly was a selfish request she asked of the grail.

If she was to perform under the name once more, she felt it suitable to do so in the same fashion. It was a man’s name, even if the women did not know. Arturia resolved to do just as she did formerly as king.

“And I am not a woman. Please refer to me by my correct gender,”  
_________________________________

The marketplace was buzzing with commerce. It was warm, colorful, and lively. Her own kingdom paled in comparison to the ardor of this forum, even the items for purchase differing greatly. The contrast was expected, but that did nothing to decrease her awe. This king, whoever he was, should be proud of his accomplishments.

Arturia garnered much attention. She deduced it was because of her unorthodox appearance, a head of golden locks amongst dark, mahogany hair. Their eyes were rich and honey-colored, while hers were verdant. She admired their dark, tanned skin, and she too differed in that way with a pale complexion. The only similarity she held to them was her new attire, though it was men’s apparel in contrast to Ninki’s dress. Their gaze followed her, almost to a disturbing point, but she could not fault their curiosity. If such a differing stranger walked her lands, she too would respond with perplexion. However, she was still rather uncomfortable under their close view.

“Please ignore them, Arthur. You share a hair color with our king, they are likely assuming a connection,” Ninki explained, though it did little to calm her nerves. Arturia nodded, retaining a stoic expression. It was a habit, though it helped to conceal her bewilderment. She still wondered why the grail felt it necessary to transport her to such a time and questioned whether there was a reason, or if it was arbitrary. Perhaps a lesson was to be learned in her time here, or perhaps the lesson in itself was her appearance here. Such a topic never left her, even while other thoughts occupied her mind. It remained lingering above her, a haunting bout of uncertainty that refused to let her repose.

“Ninki, may I ask the name of this city?” her soft tone was uncharacteristically naive, but there was no concealing how little she knew. It was another world entirely, not just a different time. The weather, the environment, even the aesthetic of the town was in a completely different league than her own kingdom. The possibility of her being in a different universe briefly dawned on her, but it was a fruitless thought. While not outruled completely, it seemed rather merciful a fate for her, at least in her opinion.

“This is the Sumerian City of Uruk, ruled by King Gilgamesh. He is blessed by the Gods. It is said he is even half a deity himself,” explained the woman, a gentle expression coloring her face. The name was, once again, foreign to Arturia, but she couldn’t ignore the unprecedented impact it had on her. For an unknown reason, it felt significant, but she quickly dismissed the thought. It would be witless to assume she had a connection to the king. The girl simply nodded, finding no need to further the conversation. Though many questions flooded her mind, her last desire would be to overwhelm the woman with her novelty, no matter how she long for even the simplest of answers.

“Go on ahead. I will only be a moment here,” Ninki allowed Arturia momentary freedom. The girl once again nodded, walking further down the lively street. She came upon a fabric stand, then upon a merchant selling a food named ‘melon’, though she had little familiarity with it. Furthering her exploration, she neared a flower shop that sold beautiful flowers, even variants she’d never seen before. The blonde was never short of awe in this town.

“A lovely flower for a lovely lady,” spoke the merchant, his hand extending out with a lilac flower in his grip. Arturia smiled, not finding the necessity to contradict him. It was likely she wouldn’t encounter him again, so she indulged. She began to take the flower, but realized she hadn’t the money, nor did she even know their currency. Sensing her hesitation, the man spoke more. “Worry not, it is complimentary. I find it a shame a beautiful girl such as yourself is unadorned,” he smiled genuinely. It was not a ruse, she deduced, and decided to accept his gift. With a short thank you, she was then on her way.

It truly was a lovely place, she thought. The people, at first glance, were kind and content. While the possibility they held restrained scorn and animosity was still in existence, she could not deny the welcoming atmosphere the town exuded. It only furthered her perplexity, though. She still desperately long for an answer, any explanation to tell her why she was sent here, of any time in history. It was certainly viable that there was no reason, but the grail did not seem prone to arbitrariness.

She was brought out of deep thought when hearing a woman’s scream, her attention brought to a man roughly forcing Ninki’s purchased items from her grasp. Without hesitation, the girl ran after the assailant, easily rivaling his pitiful speed. She quickly repressed the instinct to summon her sword, finding it would create more problems than it solved. All was well, however, for her fists would suffice.

With swift movements, she ran past him and placed herself within his course, her fist meeting his face with unparalleled force. He was thrown into the wall, luckily missing one of the shops. If destroying one of the many stands, she would find it difficult to forgive herself, even more so than she already does. The man groaned as he slammed against the wall, his body becoming immobile with pain. Arturia stood over him menacingly, her glare doing just as much damage as her prior assault. Her ability was undeniable. Ninki ran over to her, a concerned expression stained upon her face, though it was underlined by shock and amazement. No one would ever think her capable of such a feat, and yet here she was, easily emerging victorious from an inconvenient skirmish with a fool.

Two large men entered the scene, looking to be guards. Arturia sighed in relief, grateful they could handle the thief in her place. She had already amassed so much unwanted attention, to do so any further was an invitation for danger. One of the men forced the assailant to his feet, tying rope around his hands held behind his back. It was to confine him, she knew, but she wondered what would be done with him next. She feared for the worst, but if it was his first offense, maybe the king would have mercy.

Perhaps she should have prayed for the guard’s mercy more than she did their king’s. She too was confined by one of the men, her hands forced behind her back. He might have exceeded her in strength, might, but her lithe body and excellent athleticism would have made it easy for her to escape, but doing so would only make her criminal, and she already was in a compromising position. There was no hiding in this land, and ostracizing herself on account of escaping authority was tantamount to an invitation to death.

“Please! He is no criminal! He was only helping me!” Ninki desperately protested, but it amounted to little. Arturia gave her a reassuring look, hoping to even slightly ease her worries. The woman grew quiet at the blonde’s solemn expression, but she was nevertheless concerned.

“It’s alright, Ninki. Thank you for everything you have done for me. Please don’t lose your smile. I hope I can make it up to you,,” Arturia forced a grin, not wanting the kind woman to burden herself more with her well-being. Tears formed in the samaritan's eyes, but she forced herself to not break down sobbing. Arturia released another sigh, a grateful one for Ninki’s ability to realize that opposing the law would not help the situation.

The two men escorted them away, Arturia fighting to remain compliant. She was met with more mystery, and it only furthered her ire. They neared the grand palace, and she prayed their king would meet her with any clemency.  
_________________________________

Arturia had just been adjusting to the heat. Now, she was met with an unmerciful, frigid jail cell that allowed for little light to illuminate the area. The girl laid against the wall, her body limp and unmoving. Her chest rose slightly with slow breaths, the only sign that she still lived. Never had she been imprisoned, and it only angered her more to know she was innocent of any crime they assumed of her. In spite of this, she refused to stir up more trouble. She certainly had the ability to escape with her powerful sword, Excalibur, but it did not matter. Running meant dying, and she would not gamble her life on escaping for the sake of her pride.

Another large man approached her cell, not one of the guards from before. She looked up to him with lost determination, an unwillingness to fight back. It was so unusual, but she was reduced to a complacent doll. He unlocked the cell door and neared the girl, bringing her to her feet. Her hands were tied once more, but this time in front of her body. One more man joined them, the two on either of her sides. She was escorted out, likely to meet the king in court for her supposed transgression.

In a different situation, she would have rather enjoyed walking the grounds of this castle. It was beautiful in both its design and execution. Though simplistic for the most part, it was the epitome of royalty. The rich colors that adorned the walls, the furniture that did well to complement the design. Once again, it was incredibly different from her castle in Camelot, but it was to be expected at this point.

They entered through grand doors, but she refused to look up. She was guided by the two guards, her gaze unmoving from her feet. It was impolite, she knew, but manners were the least of her worries at the moment. Arturia could only note the rug on the floor as her bangs fell over her eyes, her head remaining bowing down to the ground. She was placed in the center of the room, forced down upon her knees by the men. It reminded her of the desert, where she then had also fallen with hopelessness. Her surroundings were different, so too was the occurrence, but her feelings remained the exact same. She was dejected, frightful, and welcoming death. She was an outsider, that was her crime. She still refused to move her head from its position.

“You will look a king in the eyes as he speaks to you,”

That voice…

That arrogant voice.

Arturia finally gazed at the golden man, shock painting her once dreary expression. It was him, the Archer class servant of the Holy Grail War.

Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first proper chapter done! I like how this one turned out. 
> 
> I realized, like, half way through writing this that there was a slight problem. Naturally there would be a language barrier, but it soon dawned of me that it wasn't a big deal. I mean, come on. This is a story of King Arthur falling in love with King Gilgamesh. There was very little logic to begin with. 
> 
> Also, I think it's important to note how quickly this came out. I wish I was a writing machine, but I'm just not. This was released so soon only because it was already close to completion at the same time the prologue was posted. I will do my best to update consistently, but it definitely won't always be only days apart. Note that I say 'always', because I definitely have a lot of free time to write, haha. 
> 
> On another note, I wanted to also include that there will be some sexual moments much later in the story, but it won't be explicit. I don't think I'm very good at writing stuff like that, but I want to include it in some form because I think it's a really important and healthy part of a relationship. 
> 
> Anyways, I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Please comment and leave kudos so I know you're there! It definitely gives me a lot of motivation to write. Until next time!


	3. A Face Beckoning Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arturia finds herself in another king's court and is mystified by the knowledge he holds.

“The Holy Grail…”

“You’re late, Saber. I realize you were enjoying yourself with your old mad dog, but it is imprudent to the extreme to keep me waiting,”

Her stoney expression remained cold and unwelcoming. The King of Knights was close to her victory, the last obstacle standing before her with golden might. The girl remained calm, even after such an exhausting battle. Though she emerged alive, it did not feel triumphant. It was a duel that never should have taken place, and she only hoped the former Knight of the Round Table had found any semblance of salvation in death.

He stood there proudly, as he always appeared to be. He was a pompous man, the complete antithesis to Arturia’s character. She resolved that they would never agree on any matter, yet he seemed to take an odd liking to her. She hadn’t knowledge of what allured him to her, nor did she care. She saw him only as a barrier before what was rightfully hers.

“Get out of my way… You haven’t won, the Holy Grail belongs to me!”

A painful yelp emerged from her lips, accompanied by a loud thud as she descended to the floor. She let no more than a brief cry out as the sword impaled her leg, causing her to lose her balance. Blood ran from the wound, but her gaze remained plastered to his idiotic expression, as if he had already won. And he held the nerve to brand her imprudent.

“Dear Saber, it is when you are delusional and crawling in the dirt, that you are at your most beautiful,”  
A devious smirk graced his expression. He was perfect, infuriatingly so. If not so much a prick, maybe she could muster the ability to call him attractive, but such a thing mattered little to her. She more so cared for a person’s character, and he was terribly rotten. However, his speech continued, and she did little to conceal her disgusted expression.

“Lay down your blade and be my wife. A grail that grants miracles? Where is the sense in totally obsessing over something so dubious?” It was clear he gave the Grail little importance and somehow treasured her above the omnipotent chalice. The outrageous prospect brought her to a standstill, unable to identify if he too had descended to madness. Arturia couldn’t even fabricate the thought. She was never to be a wife, never to be in a loving marriage, much less with him. She was a king, and even if married to Guenivere, it was certainly not for the sake of love. It was for her country, which had and always would have her heart.

“Abandon these foolish ideals and childish vows of yours. From now on, seek only me, and devote yourself to me alone. If you do, I swear, as king of all creation, that I shall give you every pleasure the world has to offer,” he was unbelievably brazen. What had she done to make him so obsessed? Surely nothing that was purposeful, that she knew. Arturia was painfully aware of his liking for materialistic treasures, for he boasted incessantly about such things. He was in no shortage of women who bedded him, of which he compared her to. The ire that blackened her veins at such an allusion solidified her disliking for him, as if it hadn’t already been apparent. The proposal was appalling and untimely, yet she still pondered why he would do so in the first place.

“You would… steal the Holy Grail from me? For such utter nonsense?!” Her adjudged voice boomed within the auditorium. The king sheepishly arose to her feet, but the weak stance was short lived. Another sword came hurling towards her, and despite being able to block the attack, the sheer force of the blade was sufficient to send her crashing backwards.

“I was not asking for your opinion. I am informing you of my decision! Now, let us hear your response,”

“I refuse. I would never--”

Another weapon, this time an axe, pierced her limb, inducing an agonizing grunt. The girl suppressed any louder sound, for she would never give him the satisfaction of a proper cry of pain.

“Shyness has left you at a loss of words, I see. That’s fine… You may answer wrongly as many times as you like. If you would learn the pleasures of serving me, you must first learn the exquisite pain of it as well.” The damned grin once more curled his lips upwards. She was truly amazed by his lack of shame, the only thing she would ever admit to being amazed by when regarding him. She responded only with another grunt, but a sudden figure graced her sight.

“As your master, I order you with my command seal… use your noble phantasm and defeat the Archer class servant,”

Arturia removed the weapon from her leg, dismissing it to the side. Once more, she arose to her feet, accompanied by unmistakable resolution. She was a king, and would stand as so against a fool with the audacity to align himself under the esteemed title. She was poised, proud, even when her appearance was tainted by blood and dirt. Her delicate hands ascended the sword skyward, the beautiful golden sparks once more embedding her holy blade. The shocked expression in his eyes gave her slight satisfaction as he began to yell out his own noble phantasm, but it was too late. She would be victorious. She would disclose her wish upon the grail.

“Ex… calibur!”

_________________________________

“You will look a king in the eyes as he speaks to you,”

It was his voice, the man who had brought forth such a pitiful proposal in the midst of a war. Arturia’s wavering gaze shot quickly towards him, a stunned expression staining her often stoic features. Words completely evaded her, the girl unable to weave together a sentence that could properly relay her utter shock. A slight hint of surprise passed through his crimson orbs, quickly recovered by a suave look. If she hadn’t been any more observant, the brief moment would have been lost, but she saw it. He, too, was surprised by her appearance.

“What is your name?” The king rested his chin upon an open fist, his body leaning into his arm. His right leg was crossed over the left in a casual manner. She took in his new appearance. His golden armor was replaced by what seemed like casual attire, though it still had a royal essence. His chest was bare, only a small vest strung around his shoulders. He donned rather full pants the color of wine, shoes the color of the sun. An odd headdress crowned him, however, not only was his exterior disparate, but so too was his manner. He had a different demeanor, still arrogant, but accompanied by a new sense of serenity, a certain wisdom he did not possess before. In the war, he seemed a juvenile teen who would wreak havoc on those who refused to bend to his every whim (and he did), but a new air surrounded him, like he had matured. Arturia struggled to find a response. Was it wise to speak her true name? Or even the name of her tale?

“My name is Arthur,” she spoke, resolving to use the false name. Perhaps it was foolish to do so, but he had named himself the King of all Creation, the first king to reign over the lands of the earth. If she had been transported to the beginning of time, surely none would recognize the name, nor her woeful tale of chivalry.

Another smirk appeared on his features. It was so common to see him donning such a grin that it was strange to see him express any other emotion, and it exasperated the King of Knights to no end. She grit her teeth as he arose from his opulent throne, the sound of his confident steps plaguing the former silence of the large room. None would dare speak unprovoked in the presence of their king.

“Arthur, you say?” He posed the statement as a question, but it was clear he meant to doubt her answer. He continued to saunter towards the girl on her knees, until finally he was right before her, domineeringly glaring down upon her. Gilgamesh closed the gap between them when bending over to whisper in her ear.

“But that’s not your true name, now is it, _Arturia_?”

The frightened girl sheepishly fell backwards in a puny attempt to create distance between them, her shoulder catching her descendance. Gilgamesh snickered, finding entertainment in her struggle. He brought his torso upright once more and turned away from the captive, hands finding their place at his hips. Arturia’s breaths were strained, her chest rising and lowering at an alarmingly quick pace. Uncertainty once more enveloped her mind, no longer a ghost lingering amongst her thoughts, but rather a stain blemishing her every notion. It took any control she still harbored to not unleash her ire upon him, to not demand an explanation for the knowledge it seemed impossible for him to attain.

“Prepare this _boy_ a room. I’ve chosen to deem this stranger an honored guest,” Gilgamesh peered back over his shoulder, his crimson orbs clashing against her emerald ones. He combatted her deadly glare with a smug expression, one only he was capable of. She expected his subjects to object, to refuse her such a title, but their silence spoke for their acceptance, or rather, their inability to speak against their king.

She could not ignore how he referred to her, either. He called her a ‘boy’, and though grateful (she hated to admit it), once more wondered how he would know to refer to her as the opposite sex. She would have initially blamed it on his ability to ascertain that ‘Arthur’ was a man’s name, even if not familiar with its origin, but he knew her true name. He was aware that she had falsified her identity, yet played along with her ruse. Much mystery surrounded this man, and she only hoped to gain the answers she craved.

Two women, she assumed were servants, approached to help her regain a comfortable stance. They untied the coarse rope that captivated her wrists, the girl massaging the imprints to hopefully alleviate some of the pain. She hadn’t realized how much they hurt until removed. They restored her to her feet with relative ease, her small frame aiding in such an endeavor. She voiced a faint thank you, but they failed to respond. Their silence was almost frightening, but Arturia recognized she was in no position to demand any verbalities from them. She realized she was no longer a ruler, but a lost stranger in another king’s court. The two servants led her away, but Gilgamesh’s gaze never left her.

_________________________________

Arturia was tended to as a royal. She was treated to a bath, able to attenuate her aching muscles. If not for the servant boy that called for her to step out, the girl was sure she would have fallen asleep within the hot water. However, it was a relief to know the servant’s silence was not a result of losing their tongues, rather a sign of compliance to the king. The blonde dressed herself before exiting, a similar garb to what she had before, instead now being adorned by intricate designs that decorated the border of the fabric. The attendant had remained outside the bathing room, still a fool to her true gender. Once emerging, the retainer bowed to show respect to the guest, then left without a word.

The girl scavenged her new room. Her eyes interrogated every corner, every aspect, of the area with careful scrutiny, possibly in search of an escape. Though grateful for the king’s unusual benevolence, it only seemed wise to flee as soon as possible. She would gain answers, then be on her way. It was selfish, she knew, but remaining in the palace only seemed dangerous. Even if he spoke of different intentions, she would never trust Gilgamesh’s words.

The room was beautiful, she could not deny it. The warm temperature allowed for open windows and thin walls, completely opposite to the thick walls the castle in Camelot needed to combat the undying cold. She struggled to adapt to the drastic change in weather, finding herself easily nauseous at the sun’s blazing radiance. She kept this conflict a secret, only giving in to her exhaustion once the servants took their leave.

Arturia fell onto the bed with weak limbs that refused to catch her fall, the surface’s soft cushion doing so for her. She released a fatigued sigh. The girl wondered what was next for her, what Gilgamesh planned to do with her. Leaving the room was a mindless thought as she had no doubt she would be lost within the large structure. With what she saw of it as she was being escorted to her cell, it was vast, a labyrinth of sorts. Being astray in unfamiliar territory was not befitting of her, she thought, and thus refused the possibility of being found in a compromising position by a certain golden man.

It felt like eons before a servant came to retrieve her, one of the women who had escorted her prior. The former king composed herself, removing herself from the childish position. Arturia sat upright with her legs hanging off the bed, her feet just barely unable to touch the ground, a consequence of her short stature. She placed her hands in her lap and held her shoulders high. Within an instant, she dispelled any sign of her debility.

“Our king has requested your presence in his garden. I will escort you,” The woman spoke in a soft tone, her head bowed in reverence. She was not so childish as to spread her disliking of their king to his servants, rather she appreciated their efforts to accommodate her every need. Once again she thanked them, only to receive silence in return. Arturia was not offended, instead feeling pity for her. Though seen as a fatal flaw, she always allowed her subjects a voice, even when not in her favor. In a cruel twist, her kindness was both her greatest strength and greatest weakness.

The blonde followed the servant, aware that she would once more be encountering her former adversary. She believed he had no reason to attack, but was still on edge. The king steeled herself for the meeting, hoping he would spare her his irksome tactics, but it was a futile wish.

_________________________________

“Ah, Arthur, I’m so glad you have graced me with your presence. Are you impressed? By my garden, of course,” she should’ve known better than to expect anything less of him. His haughty tone only complemented his galling smirk, an unfailing attribute she never knew to disappear for too long. He was lounging on a sofa the hue of his eyes, embellished with golden decorations. There was a small open area for seating where he resided, the sector surrounded by flowers of various kinds. Their beauty went unnoticed by the blonde as her only focus was the man before her.

“Spare me the performance, Archer-”

“I figured that name would emerge from your lips, but not so soon. You are endlessly amusing, Arturia,”

His familiarity with the label was not surprising, considering the other information he held. The girl flinched as he once more used her real name, her eyes frantically searching the area for any eavesdroppers. Though none came to sight, she still worried for any unwelcome ears listening to their conversation. She doubted he would speak so openly if not completely confident of their privacy, but then again, when was he not completely confident of anything?

“How do you know who I am?” the question came quickly, unwelcoming of any further theatrics on his part. She wanted answers, nothing more.

“Consider it fate,” he teased, but was met only with a hostile glower. He sighed boredly, resistantly indulging in her pursuit of knowledge. He gestured for her to seat herself upon the sofa, the girl doing so. She sat a considerable distance from him on the same couch, unwilling to be too close.

“I have the ability of Sha Naqba Imuru, a form of clairvoyance that aids my analytical abilities in combat, but it also allows me brief glimpses into the future. Though I lack sufficient control over such glimpses, it seems your presence posed as a catalyst for visions,” he finally explained, his features calming into an indifferent expression. It was a rare sight, and she appreciated the absence of his usual mischievous grin. His answer reminded her of her former friend and mage Merlin, who disappeared of unknown cause shortly before the Battle of Camlann where she had met her end. He too possessed a clairvoyant ability, but his differed slightly, as his eyes were rather able to see beyond any individual that stood before him. She understood very little of his power, but respected it nonetheless.

“So we have never properly met,” she quickly came to this conclusion, surmising that the man before her was not the exact foe she had faced in the war.

“I suppose not,”

“But these ‘glimpses’ were enough to inform you of my identity, is that right?” Though it sounded illogical, she was quickly able to grasp the situation somewhat, even if not to her desired degree of understanding.

“You are rather intelligible. I feared you’d doubt me once more,” his simper had returned, the former expression a brief and fading one. It was to be expected, but was nevertheless disappointing. She turned her head slightly to look into his eyes, her defiant glare refusing him capitulation. As long as it was within her ability, she would never stand down to him.

“You may be insufferable, but I’ve never known you to be a liar. Your unrestrained honesty is worse than duplicity,” she spoke coldly. The blonde realized she had projected her erstwhile feelings upon this man she technically had never met, but it was a laborious task ignoring her prior notions of this man. However, she had to admit he was slightly less intolerable. He had yet to boast of his countless riches and luxuries, as well as his desire to wed her, if still held that desire. He only chuckled in response, as if not able to refute her statement. Perhaps he prided himself on his honesty.

“So why play along? How does my concealed identity serve you?” although she posed the question for him, she couldn’t help but ask herself the same. Why did she lie? Even before she knew of his clairvoyance, she had lied to Ninki and Irkalla, and it would have been of no consequence if they were informed of her true name and gender. Perhaps it was a pitiful attempt to comfort herself, a way to align herself with the lost time she had given up for an idiotic wish.

“Would you deny a king his entertainment?” He spoke softer, but his cockiness was still very apparent. It was only a simple collection of words, yet it vexed her to an extreme. She was a proud woman, a king, yet he audaciously still saw her as nothing more than a source of entertainment. Arturia resolved to reform this blindness of his. Her fists balled tightly, her breath slow and heavy.

“I almost expected you to have changed, but I now realize what a foolish notion that was. I refuse to be your plaything,” her eyes bore into his, but he seemed only to be more amused by her actions. The blonde attempted to arise from her position, to flee the area, but was stopped when a tight grip wrapped around her wrist. Before she knew it, the man had pulled her backwards with gentle force, careful not to hurt her. It was odd for him to be so delicate. When she hit the surface once more, now laying down as opposed to merely sitting, he climbed on top of her, his hand still clutching her wrist.

“You are mistaken, Arturia,” he began, his warm breath sending shivers down her body. He brought her wrist to his mouth, his soft lips placing a tender kiss upon her skin. The girl unwelcomed the burning sensation that found her cheeks.

“I believe you will be much more to me in due time,”

With not a moment of hesitation, she mustered any strength she could to push the man away from her. She felt her cheeks, the warmth embarrassing her further. Arturia wanted nothing more than to never allow him the sight of her in such a position, yet he had made it happen so quickly. She began to walk away, not wanting any more to do with the man, but then stopped at his next statement.

“You will inform me of our complete history in that dubious war. That is an order from your king,” he did not sound disappointed by her actions. He almost seemed more delighted by her resistance. Gilgamesh had expected it of her, and would have been bored if she’d reacted any differently. Despite not knowing her properly, he had an undeniable connection, an attraction, to her. Perhaps they were artificial feelings arriving as a result of his visions, but he had no doubt he would soon grow free of any influence his future self held over him, and his enchantment with her would grow to be entirely his own.

“I serve only my country,” she refused to look at him, mainly to not allow him any more satisfaction at the sight of her flustered expression. She hadn’t experienced much intimacy with another, much less a man who expressed such a lust for her. With any other man, one she held genuine feelings for, perhaps she would have enjoyed the moment.

“That’s rather fruitless, is it not? To give your heart to a kingdom yet to exist,” he placed an arm over the couch to better look back at her, but she was still reluctant to turn around and face him.

“You need only know this: vanquishing you in that war is amongst my greatest feats,” her tone was cold. He did not respond, the man unable to rebut her statement. She welcomed his silence and took her leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 done! (Technically chapter 2 if you count the prologue, but it's the third 'thing' I've written for this story, so I'll refer to it as such). I didn't expect to get it done so quickly. I said I was only gonna write 1,000 words today, but it ended up being almost 4,000. Hehe.
> 
> Anyways, I really like how this chapter came out. I don't know why, but I love dialogue between characters, especially when it is quick and witty. I really struggle with writing stuff like that, but I think this is a good tease for the endless banter that will happen between these two. 
> 
> I really hope you guys liked this chapter! All your kind words really helped to fire my motivation to write and it brought me such joy to know you guys were liking what I was writing. I wasn't expecting to gain so much support so quickly and I am endlessly grateful.
> 
> On another note, in case it wasn't clear, this is the Caster form of Gligamesh. From what I've learned, he's not quite so jerkish as the Archer version of him is. This also takes place after an alternate version of Fate Zero, where Saber is ordered to defeat him instead of destroying the Grail. Her victory is similar to what happens in Fate Stay Night. I was going to include a fight scene, but I didn't want to digress on a flashback (and fight scenes are hard to write). Her master is anonymous, so feel free to put anyone in that place. Perhaps it's a reformed, kinder version of Kiritsugu, or maybe even Irisiviel (even though I used male pronouns, it's not too important). Just wanted to clarify those things!
> 
> Please everyone stay safe and healthy!


	4. Another King's Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arturia is given an assistant and is requested once more by Gilgamesh. He proposes an agreement, one that may help her get back to her own time.

It was a sleepless night for Arturia. The unforeseen frigid weather came without mercy, the girl only finding refuge when coiling her limbs into herself. She felt like a child in such a position, but dismissed the thought entirely, as her need for warmth trumped any trivial insecurities. In a twisted way, she was grateful for the cold. It reminded her of Britain, calling forth memories of her erstwhile reign over the kingdom. When she was finally able to slip into unconsciousness, dreams of her past life flooded her mind, providing momentary happiness. She sincerely regretted her foolish wish.

Despite the night’s icy winds, the sun returned the warmth she craved, but it soon grew unbearable. The bright rays invaded her room with blazing nerve. The light alone was sufficient to awake the girl, coupled with the immense heat, and it felt unfeasible to resist and stay asleep. The former king was a rather light sleeper, a consequence of her life as a warrior. It was required of her to always be vigilant, thus she awoke to even the slightest indication of danger.

Arturia quickly threw the covers away from her body in search of relief from the heat. She panted with unparalleled wrath, the girl exasperated beyond belief. Something so minor had conjured such a grand amount of displeasure, and she began to chastise herself for the adolescent behavior. It was unbefitting of a king, and she was relieved by the privacy. Had anyone, especially _that man_ , caught a glimpse of her unruly temper, she would never be able to stomach the embarrassment and shame. With slow movements, the blonde arose from her position and retrieved the blanket previously thrown across the room. Arturia, in an odd attempt to atone, made her own bed as if it hadn’t been slept in.

A gentle knock at the door grabbed her attention, provoking curiosity. 'Had they heard the blanket being thrown?' Arturia scoffed. ‘It seems my paranoia is besting me,’ she thought, rolling her eyes at her own foolishness. “Come in,” she called out in a hushed tone, her voice still recovering from the night’s sleep. While not terribly hoarse, it seemed she struggled to find much volume.

“Good morning. I hope you rested well. May I call you Arthur?” a woman, she assumed was another servant, with coffee (a drink she had learned of while in the modern era) colored hair entered the room. Half of her face was covered by a translucent fabric, her garb the hue of a bounteous field. She was beautiful, and her demeanor differed greatly from the other attendants within the palace. Instead of being silent and reserved, she displayed a gentle, lively smile that alluded to her delicate character. Arturia was relieved that someone like this even existed in this palace. The only other grin she’d seen was Gilgamesh’s damned smirk.

“Yes, that is fine. What business have you here?” her tone was not harsh, nor accusing, but rather a genuine question of her purpose. While the blonde doubted any malicious intent, it was still pertinent to be informed of her aim, or what was asked of her. The woman bowed reverently, her hands folded over her chest.

“I am Siduri, King Gilgamesh’s assistant. He has deemed me worthy of also attending to your needs, so you needn’t hesitate to call upon my service,” her smile never faded. Arturia admired this, wishing she had the willingness to always uplift those around her with such a gentle expression. Alas, she found that producing such a tender countenance was a difficult task, only doing so when not intentional.

The woman’s role had not escaped her, though. She’d never pegged Gilgamesh a man willing to employ someone as his assistant, assuming he was too arrogant to enlist anyone’s help. Arturia realized he must have placed great trust in this servant, and adjudged it necessary to inform the woman of her true gender.

“Very well then, Siduri. I think it is suitable that you know of my true identity. I am a woman. My name is Arturia, but I ask that you still refer to me as Arthur,” her tone was once more stern, opposing Siduri’s tenderness. In response, the woman nodded with a dutiful glint in her eyes. Arturia could sense her undying loyalty through the action alone.

“You are guaranteed my silence,” she bowed her head once more, her hands descending to reside above her stomach. Despite her formality, Arturia wondered if she had reserved liveliness hidden within her. Though not an important thought, she still questioned it. “Once you are dressed for the day, the King has requested that you meet him in the garden. He expresses his desire for you to make haste,” she spoke, the orders only aggravating the blonde more so. With a sigh, she nodded, knowing he was inescapable.

“Thank you, Siduri. Tell your King I will join him shortly,”.  
_________________________________

The blonde had excellently recalled her way to the garden, not requiring the guidance of a servant. Despite his plea for celerity, she leisurely ambled through the large corridors adorned by various, gold baubles that alluded to his extreme wealth. Many small, human-like paintings also lined the walls, but she had little knowledge of what they signified. She was impressed by the tapestry and design of the palace, and thought she would’ve rather enjoyed her time here if under different circumstances.

She finally entered the familiar area, her eyes coming upon Gilgamesh sprawled over the crimson sofa. He left no room for her, and was not going to. A vexed expression stained his perfect features, replacing that galling smile of his. She almost allowed her lips to curl into a delighted grin, but restrained herself.

“A king should never be made to wait, it is unmannerly,” his low tone only furthered displayed his annoyance at her folly. He peered back at her, his enraged lower challenging her own glare. Arturia recalled their last confrontation in the war, the moment he had outrageously proposed she become his wife. Then, too, had he accused her of being “imprudent” for making him wait. She composed herself, acknowledging that responding with paralleled ferocity would only induce more trouble.

“Patience is a virtue,” the girl spoke softly, hoping to not fuel his fire. She was not like him, and so did not endlessly tease him in pursuit of an entertaining reaction. She’d already quelled his hubris by making him wait, and was satisfied. The saying was one her master often used to comfort as well, especially when she was particularly anxious to undo her enemies. Her pent up frustration manifested through childish antics, and were thwarted by her master’s kind words. Arturia yearned for that person’s guidance, now more than ever.  
“I haven’t time for your righteous preachings. I’ve summoned you to make an agreement,” his scowl faded into a solemn face. Arturia, intrigued by his proposition, neared the man and placed herself before him. He still refused to make room for her, but that hardly mattered. She wondered what “agreement” he desired to make with her, and only hoped it lacked a witless proposal of marriage. The former king remained silent to welcome his explanation.

“You have knowledge I seek. I wish to make sense of these visions, and you have the ability to do so. In return for this knowledge, I will grant you unimpeded access to any resource within my palace,” he spoke, for once, in a kingly manner. Arturia pondered the concurrence, uncertain it served her. Such a proposition surprised her, unsuspecting that he would be in such a pursuit of knowledge. “Any resource I have may even help you back to your time,” he added, sparking a thought within the girl.

“Does this access to your resources include you?”

“Had I known any better, I’d have assumed you desire me. Explain yourself,” that damn smirk returned. She truly had a bad habit of weaving sentences that expressed the wrong thing.

“If I am correct in my assumptions, you are a great mage. Could your talents aid me in such a task?” she hated to compliment his abilities, but found it necessary to make him more willing to allow her use of his magic. The girl queried the possibility he was a caster after hearing of his clairvoyance, a trait she’d only known was associated with magi, like Merlin.

“I suppose I could agree to lend my talents to your cause, if not excessive and interfering with my duties,” he was uncharacteristically willing to help. She had assumed he would do what he could to keep her here, and even the thought of him betraying their agreement came to mind. She explored this doubt, but what other option stood before her? Her course of action was finite, and it became clear his help was required if even a chance of salvation existed.

A sigh escaped her soft lips, the girl aware that it was a sound agreement that would be to her benefit. She closed her eyes, composing herself. Arturia was hesitant. She was making a trade with a man who was essentially her former enemy, but whom she had also just met. It was a rather confusing ordeal, but she steeled herself for what was to come. Opening her eyes, she gave him her answer.

“I will submit to this agreement, but I have a condition,” she began, enlisting her kingly tone and manner. Before he could protest, she continued speaking. “I ask that you refrain from ever using my true name, even in secret,” her words were solid, and if not agreed to, would render the agreement unfulfilled. The girl knew she could ask for more, but pegged herself capable of handling his annoying antics. She almost prided herself on it.

“Simple enough. I’m rather shocked you didn’t request more, Arthur,” she could sense his disappointment in not being able to use her name, but could care less about what he wanted.

“I could say the same for you. I anticipated that you would desire more of me,” she regretted her words as he responded with a mischievous snicker. He arose to his feet, finally moving from his comfortable position upon the sofa. Gilgamesh neared the short girl, his tall stature towering over her. He placed a hand upon her cheek as his arm snaked around her slender waist.

“There is plenty I want of you,” he sneered, his face dangerously close to hers. She tried desperately to suppress a blush, but it was involuntary, the blood rushing to where he touched so casually. Using her free hand, she attempted to push him away, but he remained in place. He only moved when sensing the presence of another. He reluctantly released her, finding his former seat upon the couch.

She could have pushed him away, it was certainly within her ability, but she refused to allow her own emotions to take the rein of her actions. Arturia knew herself more than capable of handling his whims, no matter how annoyed she would become in the process. Though, she was grateful for the individual who had interrupted his advances. Had he gone any further, the girl wouldn’t have hesitated to put him in his place. She’d done it once, and would revel in doing so once more.

The servant boy entered in pursuit of his king, but stopped immediately after coming upon the meeting. “Forgive me, my king. I was unaware of your council,” he bowed apologetically, his hand placed over his heart. Gilgamesh sheepishly dismissed him, only waving his hand as a signal for him to leave. Arturia rolled her eyes, surmising that he was disappointed in not being able to go further. What would he have done had he not been heckled? She dismissed the query, not wanting to entertain such a trivial thought.

“Begin with this ‘Holy Grail War’ is. It sounds incredibly tedious,” he once more spoke in a monotonous tone, as if the entire ordeal barely interested him. With a deep breath, she sat herself upon the cushioned surface, her hands finding a comfortable place on her lap. Her shoulders remained poised, a stance befitting her royal descent.

“The Holy Grail War… is a battle to determine ownership of the omnipotent chalice. Seven capable magi summon heroic spirits, dubbed ‘servants’, and partake in duels to usurp use of the Grail. If emerging victorious, a wish can be made upon the cup,” she explained, her demeanor gradually falling from grace. Her gaze remained lowered in shame. Arturia could not even bring herself to look him in the eyes.

“And you won?” he questioned, his cheek resting upon an open fist. Gilgamesh lacked his galling smile, a feature she was glad to be absent. “And what is it you begged of this cup?” he continued, his gaze continuously upon her. She flinched at his words, her broken confidence enveloping what little remained of her dignity. She stood as a king, but was a fool.

“I wished to undo my reign as king…” she began, the girl naturally holding back her tears. It was a talent she had perfected. Arturia had finally been confronted by her mistake, forced to speak it aloud instead of the thought flooding her mind. In its own way, it felt liberating to finally word her sorrows, to tell someone who would listen and not doubt her honesty. She expected him to laugh and sneer at her, to chastise her for such folly. The girl steeled herself for his harsh response.

“You were a king?” the question, somehow, sounded so innocent. He was anything but, yet his naive tone betrayed what she formerly knew of him. Finally, Arturia relented and met his gaze. He appeared uninterested, but she knew better. The girl took another deep breath and continued on.

“Yes, and I… I caused my kingdom’s downfall. Thus, I wanted to give my people the chance to thrive, to grant them a life free of my injudicious reign. I gave this wish to the Grail, and I misworded my covet… So I am here,” their eyes had met for only a brief moment before she quickly averted her gaze, returning her solemn stare to the floor.

“You are a fool,” he spoke simply, his smirk returning. “A fascinating one, at that. However, has it yet dawned on you that dwelling on such adversity merely prolongs its destruction? Had you accepted your fate, you would not be a fawn in a lion’s cage,” she once more met his gaze, their leers combatting each other with equal brutality. She arose, her fists balled at her sides. It reminded her of their last encounter in the garden.

“Now it is I who hasn’t the time for your righteous teachings. I am painfully conscious of my inanity and I needn’t you to remind me of my failures,” her words were crisp, unhesitant, as if rehearsed. Her performance only entertained the man, his eye never once leaving her. However, a subtle scornful glint was found in his longing gaze.

“Sit down. I accept you have king’s blood coursing through your veins, but another ruler stands before you. These are my lands and my people, and you will listen to my commands,” the decree was almost unprovoked, but she knew his dominance was threatened by her former role. Calming herself, Arturia knew her place and position, but she would never yield fully to this man.

“I may be in another king’s court, however, I refuse complete submission to your whims. I will be civil, King of Heroes, but you are not my king,” her aura was radiant, as if a guiding star within the danger of night. He looked to her vexatiously, her determined stance alluring his growing interest. Yes, she was a fascinating fool, a woman who even in the face of her own failures retained her poise and composure, a woman worthy of his regard.

Gilgamesh scoffed, a vibrant gold portal opening above his open palm. A goblet ermerged, the same color as the brilliant light that illuminated its immediate surroundings. The cup fell into his grip as a small bit of the crimson liquid within fell over the walls, but missed staining his clothes or skin. The man took a leisure sip, Arturia becoming irked by his lack of a response. He placed the vessel upon a table ahead of the couch, his movement slow and undemanding. Realizing her ire, he only smirked.

It was a familiar sight, the golden man illuminated by befitting golden light that bathed him in radiance. Her mind wandered to what little peace she recalled of the war, the odd moment three kings sat before one another in an urbane assembly of each ruler’s ideology. Rider, whom she had known to be Iskander, King of Conquerors, berated her for her witless aspirations. Only then, her wish differed slightly, in the way that she only wanted to repeat her reign, to give her the chance of undoing her mistakes. Much had changed, she grew more ashamed, and soon resolved to undo her selection entirely. She had succeeded, technically, but at a cost.

“There will be a feast tonight in your honor. It is expected of you to attend,” his tone returned to its normal mischievous sound, the topic changing completely. Aruria was grateful, realizing that going against him any more would only serve to her disadvantage. Though to her great disliking, she needed his ability if there was a sliver of hope of returning to her own time.

The girl lost the tension previously found in her body, forcing herself to regain tranquility. She hated how often she allowed trivial things to boil her blood and resolved to put an end to it. With yet another deep breath, Arturia forced herself to find his gaze, but did not give him a response. Rather, she only nodded, then swiftly took her leave. He watched as she left, his grin never fading.

_________________________________

“OW!”

Arturia released a shriek as the woman desperately tried to weave a brush through her blonde locks, only for the countless tangles to act as barriers. It wasn’t the worst pain she’s experienced, as far more lethal wounds have been inflicted, but it was certainly not a pleasing sensation. Normally, her hair would be automatically styled when equipping her armor, but her mana was limited and unpredictable. Using the magical energy would be reserved for desolate times, and thus she resorted to other means of attaining things, including having her hair done by Siduri.

“My apologies, I don’t mean to hurt you,” the woman smiled worriedly, genuinely sorry for the painful detangling. After a long duration that stretched on like eons, her hair was finally smooth, to the point where the hairbrush glided smoothly through the strands. Arturia was grateful, the hard part now over. She shook her head with a smile, though underlined by unease, to comfort the servant. It was against her self-declared code to never show someone below her scorn for such trivial reasons.

“It’s alright, it’s over,” she spoke softly, truly appreciative that it ended. “But I must ask, is this necessary? To my understanding, only women go to such extreme lengths of beauty. Wouldn’t it be odd for a man to appear as so?” she sounded like a child. Though she did not like the process, her distaste only served as a mild reason for protest, rather she feared being exposed instead.

“This is only to better your appearance. Your hair before resembled a matted forest,” Siduri suppressed her laughter, but a giggle still made its way out. Arturia wore a brooding expression, the servant woman finally regaining her composure. “My apologies once more, but if I may inquire, have you no desire to adorn yourself with such luxuries? You have the finest fabrics and jewelry, yet you remain under this masculine guise. Why?” the brunette placed her hands gently upon the blonde’s shoulders. Arturia looked at herself in the mirror, taking in the reflection.

“That… is a rather difficult question to answer,” she began, but realized she had been guaranteed Siduri’s silence. Arturia decided to continue, but knew not to be overly detailed. “I can only tell you oddments, but… I am not of this era. I come from a time far in the future. I was once a king, thus it was required I lived as a man. A female ruler was unwelcome,” she took view of Siduri’s confused countenance, but her look was underlined by interest. “I never lived as a girl. I learned to fight rather than dance. I was more familiar with a sword than I was an instrument. I was a king who knew nothing of pleasure, as I reserved such luxuries for my people,” her gaze now remained lowered. ‘I couldn’t even give them the one thing I voided myself of,’ she thought to herself.

“I haven’t much knowledge of your predicament, but… perhaps, you can experience those joys in this life,” the woman bent over and brought her face near Arturia’s, both of them now seen in the mirror before them. “The people may know you to be a man, but there is no kingly obligation upon your shoulders. Even if just in secret, you can learn the pleasures of being a woman,” a comforting smile graced her lips. Looking up, Arturia couldn’t help but return a grin, rather surprised by the servant’s advice. Though she knew it wasn’t so easy to simply change her views, she was certain to always keep her words in mind.

“You may even explore these womanly pleasures as a way to attract the king’s attention,”

Arturia shriveled at the thought. She’d already somehow gained his unwanted focus and would sooner plunge herself into darkness before willingly attracting him. Siduri chortled, unable to keep it a subtle snicker this time. “He already has shown quite an interest in you, perhaps he plans to bed you!” she placed a hand over her mouth, as if speaking of something taboo. However, for Arturia, it _was_ taboo. Catching sight of her disgusted bearing, the brunette finally stifled her laughing.

“I jest, though this side of you is rather delightful. It’s become clear why King Gilgamesh has taken a liking to you,” she giggled more, followed by Arturia’s relenting sigh. Though she disliked being teased, the blonde could only smile back at her taunts. It was somehow different from when that man did it. Perhaps it stemmed from the fact that she genuinely liked Siduri, while the same could not be said for that arrogant king.

“Though I will not question your loyalty for that man, I cannot say I hold much liking for him. Desire he may, he will never find me in his chambers,” her tone was resilient. Arturia only had limited experience with such a matter, and it was for the sake of an heir, not for any romantic purpose. It was one of the many pleasures she denied herself, and one she resolved to never indulge in. Even in a life ‘devoid of her kingship’, her beliefs were not easily ridden of.

Siduri responded with a hum, not refuting her statement, but also not agreeing. The girl questioned her response, but did not inquire further. She was glad the topic had not drawn on and enjoyed the silence. The brunette dressed Arturia for the banquet, selecting a white garb with a green fabric wrapped around her torso. As needed, it was men’s apparel. The former king noted the servant’s slight disappointment, but elected to remain hushed about it.

The sun had begun to set, and Arturia was now ready for the feast. Subtle nervousness ate at her composure, but she did well to hide her unease. Even as king, she had never been one for grand social events and often deterred from them. Siduri began to escort her to the dining hall where mile long tables had been set, as well as vast amounts of food adorning the tops of them. New, foreign smells graced her senses, and she had then realized how hungry she was. If there was any way to her heart, it was certainly through the stomach.

“Ah, you’ve arrived, _Arthur_ ,” his usual slyness accompanied his galling tone, causing the girl to turn over himself. He donned new garb, differing quite a bit from his former clothes. His underclothes were mostly white, while crimson fabric draped over his shoulders. Golden jewelry adorned his chest and waist, as well as his wrists. It was fitting for a king. Arturia voiced a brief greeting, not giving him much more than uninterested enthusiasm.

He sauntered forward, catching her gaze as he did so. A smirk curled his lips upward, but he looked away as he came upon the scene. The city people poured in, gleeful expressions upon their faces. Arturia looked on with trepidation, uncertain of what the night’s events had in store for her. Her thoughts halted at the sound of his booming voice.

“People of Uruk, it is my privilege to hold this feast in honor of our esteemed guest. I present to you, Arthur!”

Arturia raised her shoulders and lifted her chin. Yes, she was a king through and through, and easily did away with any former fear she held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! I don't know why, but this chapter was so hard to write. I'm sorry of it's a little boring, but I had to lay down the premise and explain why Arturia would even stay in the palace as opposed to running away. Even if she hates him (for now), he is her only chance of getting out, if that chance even exists. 
> 
> The next week is going to be very busy for me, so I can't guarantee a quick upload! I apologize sincerely, but I will do my best to make haste. I also just got a job, and may be getting another one, so that might also put a dent on things, but I WILL complete this story! Even if it takes 100 years, it's going to happen. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all continue to like this story! I promise it gets more exciting after this, think of this as the business part of a mullet. Business in the front, party in the back, ya feel? Gotta get the boring stuff out of the way in order to get to the fun part. Like always, thank you for your support and motivating comments! You guys help give me the energy to write! Stay safe everyone <3


	5. A Feast for our Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arturia attends the feast held in her honor. When the two return to her room, Gilgamesh is informed of her former reign as King Arthur of Camelot.

Arturia sat in unamused silence, her only interest being the platter before her. She’d always been a glutton, a habit she adopted after going hungry many nights in her lonesome castle. Though she hated to admit it, she enjoyed the hospitality given to her, especially the fine cuisine. The former king still dreaded her circumstances, and even more so her ‘captor’, but at least found slight solace within the care being shown to her. The girl found it hard to recall a moment she’d last not been plagued by tensity. She was still not free of the stress, but could not ignore this foreign time of peace.

The blonde did not relent when stuffing her face with the delicious food. She retained her manners, such as wiping her face when food stained her skin and lips, but her speed was unparalleled. In just moments, while others had only finished one serving, Arturia had scarfed down at least four. Amazed eyes watched on in awe as the honored guest demolished the course. For an instant, the girl looked to the citizens who stared, her cheeks reddening as she expected them to judge her behavior. However, the opposite occurred as they grew more rowdy, matching her speed and ferocity. She suppressed a smile.

Still, she did not speak a word. Rather, it was hard to with her mouth so full, but as her meal came to a close, her lips refused to move, not even to change her expression. Arturia watched on with forthright indifference and rejected any other feeling. She didn’t mean to be rude or ungrateful, but found difficulty in being completely content in her situation.

“Are my servants starving you?” Gilgamesh watched as she indulged, his cheek pressed against a tight fist. He wore a countenance not of disgust, but rather intrigue, as he so often did. If any other girl had presented themself in such an odd way, he would take no interest, but something about this girl stirred him. This girl who masqueraded into his halls as a boy and conjured nonsensical thoughts, who stood to defy him with her every breath.

“No,” her stiff and brief response unsatisfied him. It was the first she’d spoken since the feast had begun, and such a mundane word was unable of quenching his interest. He continued to speak, not yet wearing his signature grin.

“You’re rather silent. It’s a feast, Arthur. My people are indulging in pleasures other than food, as should you. I believe you would benefit from doing so,” Her attention was completely caught when the golden man spoke of her time there, food still on his platter as he opted to take his time with the cuisine. He sat at the head of the table and she resided to his left, closer than she would ever desire. Some richer citizens accompanied them while more occupied other tables scattered throughout the room. Taking a sigh, Arturia began to speak, lacking the energy and desire to retort smartly.

“I… was never allowed to when I was king. It’s foreign to me,”

“Your reign must have been rather boring, then. I almost pity you,”

Arturia mustered any control she still harbored to not stand and scream in his face, to not publicly speak against their king, but she subdued her urges. Instead, the girl composed and ridded her body of tension, her hands falling graciously upon her lap. Fortunately, the other guests were too far to hear their conversation.

“You and I ruled under different circumstances. You are fortunate to not have other kingdoms continuously threatening your land. It seemed there was an incoming invasion every waking dawn. Our weather, our soil, every little detail of my kingdom is completely opposite to yours. We cannot compare our reigns on a fair basis,” she was reluctant to grace him with her gaze, but he was quick to find it. Like so often, they fought a fierce battle with their looks, unyielding to the other’s fury. It was only broken when the blonde man gave a smile.

“That is precisely the reason you should give way to pleasure. Allow yourself one night free from your chivalrous confines of keeping kingly,” the king began, “ though you rule no longer,” he added, arrogantly intaking the wine of his cup. She scowled at his ending words, but her anger was overtaken by astonishment. Though his tone was cocky, it was uncharacteristic of him to be concerned with another’s enjoyment, much less an insider, even if he had nebulous recollections of her existence. Gilgamesh dragged his gaze from hers, his focus turning to his people. Arturia cleared her throat to gain his attention once more.

“I will enjoy myself in my own way. Have you ever considered that silence is my own form of pleasure?”

“Do not claim your resignation as pleasure. You deny yourself any semblance of selfish joy. You needn’t scream to the heavens, but remaining hushed will only further your adversity,” His words were swift, defined, barely allowing her sentence to finish before rebutting. Arturia became increasingly perplexed by his words, unable to find his intention. She certainly understood his meaning, but was uncertain of why he meddled with her merriment so adamantly.

“Why are you so wary of my pleasure?” her anger was replaced by curiosity and intrigue. For once, she sensed no ill goal behind his actions, alternatively finding that he truly cared for her entertainment. The former king feared her senses had grown blind and aimed to deceive her. Arturia, even in spite of his supposed genuineness, resolved to remain cautious of his actions. It would take centuries before he would be capable of earning her trust, if ever.

“Because you are my honored guest,”

The puny answer did nothing to quell her curiosity, yet she remained silent. However, not so much as a choice anymore. Rather, it was due to her inability to even weave a sentence together. There was so much she desired to say, to question, to demand, but it emerged as silence. Unsatisfied silence.

Gilgamesh, slightly disappointed by her lack of a response, rested his chin upon an open palm, the direction opposite of the girl. He squinted his eyes ever so slightly and recovered his smirk, now leaning his body towards her. Moving as needed, he took her hand in his and forced her away from the chair. As if a twisted dance, she turned into him, her bottom finding a new seat upon his lap. His crimson eyes stared into hers, a fiery bout of destruction meeting a verdant hill. The blonde man’s face was close to hers, too close. She could feel his heat, his every breath, and her hand remained captured by his. Arturia tried desperately to conceal any semblance of her blush, but failed to do so even slightly. The former king knew nothing of intimacy, and rather dreaded being so close to this man.

“Allow me to supply you with the greatest rapture. I promised you every pleasure the world had to offer, did I not?” She sobered somewhat at his statement, her blush quickly diminishing. The girl brought her face away from his, her free hand pressing against his chest. Her mind immediately recalled their last interaction in the war, again to his puny attempt of a proposal. Arturia’s desire to get away from him was overshadowed by her interest.

“You remember that?” Arturia questioned, still retaining eye contact with him. Noticing her hand laid upon what was exposed of his chest, she quickly drew it away, embarrassed.

“Only oddments, but it is enough to know of my original intentions. So, what say you?” he smiled, once more bringing his face to hers. Giving a huff of breath, the girl broke free of his captivity, the man willing to let her go. As he loosened his grip in response to her escape, she wasted no moment stepping away from him, locking sight with him once more.

“I would sooner die,”

“You’re free to do as you will,”

“I would like to return to my room, please,” She stood. Her fists balled tightly at her sides, shoulders relaxed as she channeled her anger through the taut grip. Arturia refused to break their staring contest, but Gilgamesh leisurely looked away with satisfaction. Realizing he was gaining entertainment from her ire, her hands mitigated.. He once more looked over, his face again idling against an open palm.

“The feast has only just begun, my dear guest. Leaving now would only put their efforts to waste, and I assume you wouldn’t like the idea of showing their servitude your contempt,” even in such a short amount of time, it was clear he’d come to a solid understanding of her, what made her tick and how to subtly influence her actions. She knew this, and hated to admit his wit. He was right. Her chivalrous code disallowed thankless notions towards those who had worked in honor of her. Retaining eye contact, Arturia sank to her seat. Gilgamesh simpered, looking pleased with himself.

The girl silently took a drink from the cup beside her dish, welcoming the rich taste down her throat. It was certainly to his standards, like the wine he’d graciously offered to them at their banquet during the war. Arturia chastised herself for always recalling her time in Fuyuki, as if it were a bad memory. It wasn’t quite that, but rather remembering the events only deepened her sadness and regret. She’d convinced herself that neglecting the memories would lessen her pain, but doing so was not an easy endeavor.  
She did find, however, that speaking with the civilians did distract her mind for brief moments. Many showed interest in her kingdom, her background, and any other mystery that surrounded her. They asked relentless questions, but Arturia danced around suspicion. She gave them enough of an answer to satisfy their curiosity, but not too detailed as to invite misgivings.

“And what of your kingdom?” asked a woman who loomed closer than Arturia would have liked. Slightly shifting, to create a distance, she cleared her throat and began an answer. “My kingdom is similar to yours, but also differs greatly. I think you would rather like it there, though I would never steal you from your king,” she smiled slightly, knowing Gilgamesh took sight of her snicker. The woman nodded in response, but the blonde could still see inquisitiveness within her stare.

“What is the name of your kingdom?” the woman once more moved near her, and the former king had no more to move. She wanted to give the golden man a longing glance, a wordless request for his help, but her pride stood too strong. Arturia pondered an answer, uncertain of how to respond. After taking a moment, her lips parted to reply.

“I hail from the Kingdom of Fuyuki,” it was a name she’d not said in so long, or at least it felt like it. Little time had passed since she arrived in Uruk, but it felt like centuries, eons even. She had just reprimanded herself for the painful memories, but now employed them for her own gain. She inwardly scoffed at her hypocrisy. After the word left her lips, she could see Gilgamesh perk up at her answer, as though he’d recognized it. Considering his other knowledge, it would be fitting for him to know, or at least be familiar with the name. The blonde wondered what he knew of it, and how much he knew, but was definite her answers could be easily answered when in private.

She could have said Camelot, it certainly crossed her mind. It was her home, her birthright, her haven, her hell. It was her identity, something of unparalleled value to her, yet she did not claim it as her home to these people. Arturia questioned herself. It was rather common of her to do so, but she lacked an answer. The girl lost time to think when another man began canvassing her.

“You’re much too frail for a man, ya look like a girl,” she could smell the wine in his breath. It was a scent she did not welcome, but her body remained laxed. The girl wanted nothing more than to move her face away from his, but persisted her position, fearing impoliteness. He continued to walk near them, and she took note of Gilgamesh’s disdained expression. It was clear he was exasperated by the man’s act, yet he abided in his seat, unmoving even when provoked. Arturia was surprised, and conjured a response.

“I am not yet a man’s age,” she said simply, no more and no less, but the man was far from satisfied. The girl stole another drink from her cup, hoping the man would leave anyway. It was a fruitless wish.

She peered at him out of the corner of her eye as his hand neared her chest, perhaps an action meant to decipher if she were truly a man or not. With swift movement, Arturia took hold of his wrist and swung him over her shoulder, extending her leg backwards in a powerful kick to help propel him forward. His behind crashed down upon the table and startled some guests, while others laughed in amusement. The girl certainly held back, the damage not being too great. The table was sturdy and luckily did not falter under his weight. He grunted in pain, but it soon turned to a drunken smile.  
Arturia began to apologize profusely, realizing her destructive actions, but was distracted when a certain man’s laugh caught her attention. She brooded, shooting Gilgamesh an unprecedented glare, somehow more ferocious than past ones. He laughed unapologetically. The sight almost reminded her of a child. No, it did remind her of a child. He was an over glorified teenager, she thought, one given too much power. The drunk man was hauled away as he spoke nonsensical praisings of the ‘girlish boy who made him fly’.

“What’s so funny?” she found his leer rather quickly, his laughter beginning to subside, but only barely. Gilgamesh stifled his fit to respond, lazing his cheek once more upon an open hand. He retained contact with her easily, a devilish grin finding his lips.

“Just realizing that you truly are a boy,”

Arturia seated herself with no further words. She took another sip of the drink before her, and many more after that. She was not a stranger to liquor, but refused indulgence during her time as king. Getting drunk as a royal was taboo to her, thus she never allowed herself too much, and this lack of toleration did not serve her well. Though far from complete intoxication, Arturia felt lightheaded, yet blamed it on the heat. She would never admit inebriety.

She requested water from a servant, and they quickly obliged. Holding her head in response to the unease, the girl closed her eyes for even a brief moment of repose. The water was delivered briskly. Arturia wasted no time drinking it, hoping it would cleanse the alcohol from her system speedily. She disliked the feeling of her senses being tainted, and praid the sensation would soon fade.

“Would you like to retire for the night?” the familiar voice comforted the girl. Turning around, she came upon Siduri, and was relieved. Arturia began a response, but was promptly interrupted.

“I will guide our guest back to his room. Your services are unneeded,” Gilgamesh stood tall beside her seat, one hand upon his hip and the other resting at his side. Unpermitted to speak against her king, Siduri rested her hands above her chest and bowed reverently in compliance, leaving the scene to attend to other party guests. Arturia frowned, missing the presence of her acquaintance.

Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow, bending down slightly to meet her eyesight. Her cheeks were crimson and her eyes drooped ever so slightly. “You’re drunk,” he whispered with a grin, keeping his tone hushed. The man wanted to keep this entertainment to himself. The blonde rolled her eyes and took another sip of water. “It’s the heat,” she responded plainly. The king scoffed, noting that the sun had already set.

“Perhaps I’m the drunk one, then. Let’s return to your room, you have information I want,” he stood upright, playing into her faulty excuse. It was amusing to him, to see someone so high strung and poised loosen up. She was only tipsy, at most, and it would soon fade, so he made sure to treasure the sight. She took another mouthful of water and arose from her seat.  
Initially reluctant, Arturia pondered whether or not to let him guide her, but lacked the desire to argue. “Very well then,” the words came out clearly and unslurred, to her great appreciation. She could still walk straight and found that the side effects were quickly losing control over her body. Grateful, she sauntered on, Gilgamesh not too far behind.

_________________________________

Her vision had returned to normal and the panging sensation within her head existed no longer. She wandered with her hands held behind her torso, her gaze scavenging her surroundings. Arturia still found herself in awe of the tapestries and designs.

“I see you’ve taken an interest in the architecture,” Gilgamesh noted as he walked alongside her, slightly despondent that the effects diminished so quickly. He enjoyed when she did not resign herself to silence, and thus acted to raise a response from her, through any means.

“I suppose it’s rather nice,” her eyes continued to move in every direction, but she soon came upon Gilgamesh. She damned his perfect features. He was beautiful, she thought, and recalled that Ninki proclaimed he had been “blessed by the gods”, and that he was half deity himself. It certainly appeared so. He caught her stare, prompting a simper.

“So you like what you see,” he stepped in her direction, causing her to walk backwards as his body neared hers. It was not long before her back met with the wall, his arm extending upwards to rest upon the surface. He towered over her, but she only grimaced in return. Her short stature fared well in her escape as she easily slipped under his arm, continuing their journey to her room.

“You’re too careless. Won’t suspicion arise if you are seen so intimate with another man?” it was far from her only complaint, but she feared being exposed. Her identity had already been doubted by that drunkard, and she barely fled his scepticism. Had he been of sound thought, the girl dreaded that he would have been able to see through her guise.

The golden man replied with only a laxed shrug, walking ahead of her. “I’ve bedded men before. Pleasure is pleasure, my dear. It should never be limited by such trivial means,” his shoulders were strung high and glided with every step. Gilgamesh kept upright with perfect posture, the very manner a king should have. Arturia followed close behind, finding herself unfamiliar with the concept. Sex itself was a rather taboo subject from her time, let alone performing the act with someone of your same gender.

“I suppose not…” her mind wandered to her marriage. She cared for and loved Guenevere, but a romantic bond remained absent from their relationship. It was required of them to bear an heir for the kingdom, of which Merlin helped with the slight problem regarding her inability to produce sperm. Her cheeks slightly reddened at the thought.

“For what reason do your cheeks change their hue?” Gilgamesh had turned around as she had been lost in thought, the girl finally regaining her focus. He was inquisitive and intrigued, truly curious of what was going on inside her head. Her blush darkened as she walked past him, uttering a hushed “Nothing,”. To expect him to abandon his curiosity was a foolish mistake. He quickened his pace to walk evenly with her, the man in a hot pursuit of answers. Looking at him, she could tell his desire for a reply, but expecting her to abandon her stubbornness was just as much of a foolish mistake.

“I have nothing to say to you,” Arturia answered coldly. The man scoffed, halting his movement. She too stopped walking as they had come upon her door.

“Then I demand other information. Before recounting your time in the war, I will require that you tell me of your reign as king,” his features were relaxed. He crossed his arms over his chest, his stare burning into hers. Arturia released a sigh as she broke eye contact, her gentle fingers caressing the knob. She turned the handle and entered the room.

“Fine, but you are to leave as soon as our conversation meets an end,”

_________________________________

Arturia plunged to the bed, wanting no more than to lay down and enter unconsciousness. She remained in an upright position, though she struggled to do so. The girl hoped the conversation would be brief, and that he would hold his tongue so as to not release petulant taunts. Gilgamesh leaned against a desk, his silence encouraging her to begin speaking.

“I will not delay. I was born to Uther Pendragon, the Camelotian King who ruled before I. My father had fallen in love with Lady Igraine, the Duke of Cornwall’s wife. Adultery was a high crime, and thus he could not attain the woman he yearned for. That is when my father employed the help of a mage, a sorcerer named Merlin. Merlin transformed Uther into the Duke, allowing my father to make love to Lady Igraine. This union resulted in my birth.

In return for his assistance, I was placed under Merlin’s care. My father lost hope when discovering I was female, but Merlin never cared for my gender. However, his lenience was not shared by the people. As I once said, a female ruler was unwelcomed. Thus, I lived my life as a male.

I was raised by a knight named Sir Ector and his son, Kay. I relentlessly trained my swordsmanship, reared as a knight who could serve the future king. I was unaware of my destiny. I was a squire to my adopted brother, and I loved him as if he truly were my own. My swordsmanship was superior to his, but I never felt I truly beat him in a duel. He fought with his words better than he did a sword, and convinced me I hadn’t emerged victorious.

However, Merlin had delivered a prophecy. As King Uther had no apparent heir, the role of king remained unfilled, but the mage prophesied that the future King of Camelot would hold the ability to draw the Sword of Selection from its anvil, the sword dubbed Caliburn. When the foreseen day arrived, many knights and men alike hoped to unsheathe the blade, but their efforts were in vain. The men renounced the selection and proceeded with the expected method of finding a king, through jousting. I was still only an apprentice and not of age to participate, but it was unneeded. As I approached the sword, Merlin appeared before me. He prefaced my loss of humanity at pulling the blade from its place, asking that I think it over. It was not a question of ability, but of will. I wanted to please my people, to give them the luxuries they deserved. I thought that by drawing this sword, I could fulfill these aims. I hadn’t a second thought before unsheathing Caliburn, and from that day onward, I was no longer human.

I was no longer a squire, but Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot. Beneath me were the Knights of the Round table, a squad of men with much fighting talent. Thus, I was known as the King of Knights. I did not physically age after pulling forth the sword. I fought alongside my men on the battlefield, and it felt as though there was no enemy who could withstand our military brilliance. There were ten years of victory and peace. Camelot had finally escaped the darkness that once usurped its land.

As king, it was expected that I had a queen. I married Lady Guenevere, a woman from a neighboring kingdom. It was a political marriage, one that stemmed from necessity, not from love, though I cared for her greatly. It was required that she knew of my true identity, and our marriage would never be properly consummated, however…”

Arturia looked downward, realizing it was essential that he knew of her experience with another woman. Swallowing her pride, she continued on, but refused to look in his direction.

“The question of an heir was unavoidable. It was vital that this child bear the blood of the king, but a baby cannot be conceived by two women. To solve the conflict, Merlin gave me male genitals, and thus I was able to produce sperm. The rest is clear to see, but trouble lurked within the shadows,”

The girl had expected Gilgamesh to tease, to ridicule, but he remained hushed. His face appeared unphased by the event, and she was grateful for his reluctance.

“Morgan le Fay… my sister who saw herself as the true successor to my father. Though unknown to me of how, she purloined my seed and conceived a child within her own womb. This child was a homunculus, and my mirror image. Born and raised without my knowledge, Morgan named this child Mordred. Due to being a homunculus, Mordred grew incredibly fast, and was quickly of age to join the Knights of the Round Table.

Mordred was a model knight. Loyal, strong, and chivalrous. When learning of her heritage, she came forth to me and asked that I recognize her as my heir. I… rejected her, and turned my back on one of my most loyal knights. It is among one of my greatest regrets…

The homunculus child assumed I held hatred for her. In retaliation, she pledged my downfall. This was only the beginning of my end. Other knights began to scorn me, proclaiming I hadn’t the ability to feel anymore. They were wrong. I subsided my emotions in favor of their pleasure, but my selflessness was received as inhumanity.

My most trusted knight, Lancelot, had fallen in love with Guenevere. Their bond was genuine, and I hadn’t reason to see their union as a crime. I pardoned them, but this only further my adversity. In return, Lancelot fled. I pursued him and left my country behind. In my absence, Mordred filled the king’s role and uprose a rebellion against me.

I returned to a proposition of war. What began was the Battle of Camlann, my last battle. I had my holy blade Excalibur, but the scabbard Avalon had vanished. It bestowed upon me powers tantamount to invincibility. Without it, I was vulnerable to mortal wounds. I successfully undid Mordred, but the traitorous knight had also greatly injured me. Before her death, I confessed I had never hated her, only that she was not ready for kingship. My words went unheeded.

In my final moments, Sir Bedivere, a knight with unparalleled loyalty escorted me to the holy isle. With my final breath, I plead to the world. In exchange for my services as a heroic spirit, I was given the ability to be summoned into battle in pursuit of the Holy Grail…”

He fingers tightly clenched the sheets that covered the bed, her gaze unrelenting. The former king fought tears, but deemed it necessary to hold back such emotions. She had no desire to expose this side of her to anyone, let alone the arrogant King of Heroes.

Arturia expected a response, a riposte, any sort of reply, but the room remained silent. Had she known any better, it would have seemed he wasn’t there, that she had just recalled her tale to herself only. A sigh escaped her soft lips as she reluctantly drew her sight upon him.

“You’re going to call me a fool, aren’t you?” it was not a pitiful statement. She steeled herself for his wrath, knowing it was soon to come, or even a reference to her sexual activity within the bounds of her false marriage.

“I tend to refrain from stating the obvious,” his monotone voice alluded to little. Was he impressed? Disappointed? Bored? She pondered these things, not yet able to decipher the subtle emotions that flashed within his eyes. She was observant, yes, but he was no stranger to concealing his feelings. Part of his joy was mystifying others with his unspoken thoughts, rendering them desperate to know of his opinion. She fared greatly from desperation, but could not deny her curiosity. Despite this, it was clear he thought lowly of her, and she disliked that his reasoning came from her own lips.

“Though I would hate to hear that word used upon me, I cannot refute it. It’s a veracious name to bestow upon a foolish king…” her grip tightened, her palms reddened by the imprint of her nails digging into her skin. She kept her breathing soft and slow, but it was strained.

“I don’t recall dubbing you a foolish king,” he retorted quickly, his gaze stuck upon her stature. In complete surprise, she looked to him quickly, but her exuberant expression was not returned. It was not in his nature to neglect an opportunity to ridicule another king and declare himself superior. With short breath, she began to speak.

“You said before-”

“I said _you_ were a fool. I never spoke ill of your reign,” he resigned himself from leaning on the dresser and neared her. She feared for another one of his advancements, but he merely sat himself next to her, his arms still crossed over her chest.

“I thought it impossible for you to not gauge another’s kingship, Archer,” the name slipped out due to habit. It was all she had known of him formerly, and she still refused to use his proper name. A subtle smile sneakily curled her lips upward, the delightful expression gracing the man’s sight. However, it did little to quell his disappointment.

“That mundane label again? I’ve hoped that your tender voice would call out my real name, Arthur,”  
He smirked, his hands falling to the surface beside him. He supported himself upright with his arms, and ever so slightly leaned towards the girl. Her grin was a fading sight.

“All the more reason to abstain from doing so,” she looked away, swaying sideways in an attempt to create a distance between them. He chuckled, drawing himself away from her.

“Worry not, I will draw the word from your sweet lips as I deliver you every pleasure I promised,” he looked pleased with himself, satisfaction oozing from his tone. Arturia quickly stood up, walking away from the bed to near the door. She stood resiliently, her decisive glare boring into his. Just the insinuation that she would ever grace his bed chambers in pursuit of pleasure was asinine.

“You will do no such thing. Leave my room,” she stood before the door, commanding that he take his leave, and quickly. She had little patience for his whims and found her tolerance was drawing thin. He stood as well, his hands resting upon his hips as he sauntered near her. The man looked down upon her, but not a hint of intimidation shone in the glint of her eye.

“What must I do to make you understand? You are not my king,” she stood her ground. Arturia refused to give in, to allow him superiority over her. She respected his position, but refused him submission.

“You pledged civility, did you not? Manners are at least common decency,” he bent over to meet her eye line, their noses only inches apart. Her eyes not leaving his, she spoke monotonously, her tone pointed with fury.

“Leave my room, please,” she replied. Gilgamesh sighed with a smile.

“I suppose that will suffice. Goodnight, dear Arthur,” he recovered normal posture and neared the door. She moved slightly out of his way, but not before one more thing came across her mind. Before he could take his leave, she called out.

“One more thing,”

“Yes?”

“I would like more blankets, please,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my god. It's finally done. The chapter is the longest one so far. My chapters are usually around 4,000 words, but this one's almost 5,500. I know thats not a crazy leap in amount, but it's definitely more, and I have a feeling there will be chapters even longer than this one. 
> 
> I'm sorry for the long recap on her life story. It's a doozy, and that's just the abridged version. Also, I found that there were differing tellings of her history? The general idea is the same, but small details differ. For example, I've read that Guinevere lives after being pardoned, but I've also heard that Arturia executes her? I tried to keep her ending vague due to that, but I'm not exactly sure what the truth is. If anyone knows, please inform me :,)
> 
> I know that some details are not given proper explanation and some are even left out. It was already getting long, and I didn't want to waste too much time writing about what most people already know or have a slight understanding of. Let's just say that Gilgamesh is really good at filling in holes and reading in between the lines. 
> 
> Also, super random but did Sumerian palaces have doors? I wrote about them, but I don't know, it seems unbefitting that they would for some reason. I tried to see if they do, but my research amounted to little. It's a trivial detail, just something random I thought about. Lol
> 
> Anyways, as always, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Arturia is definitely beginning to see a different side of him, even if she still has a lot of pride to swallow. I know right now it seems like Arturia is the one that's learning from Gil, but trust me, the tables will quickly turn. Be safe everyone and stay healthy! Remember to wear a mask outside!


	6. To Find Respect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siduri takes Arturia on a tour through the city of Uruk, and she reevaluates her opinion of Gilgamesh.

Arturia slept comfortably beneath the warm covers, her body shielded from the merciless cold that loomed beyond the walls. The sun had only just begun to rise as her eyelashes fluttered, the girl returning to consciousness. She was grateful to not meet the maximal heat of the sun that often poured through the window, which had caused a prior childish fit of rage aimed against the warm rays. 

Siduri entered the room quietly, her steps hushed in consideration of the sleeping guest. Arturia sat up, her view coming upon the servant woman. It was quite early in the morning, yet she appeared to have already begun her day. The blonde feared how she looked, certain that her hair had gone untamed as a result of the foreign heat. Her locks resembled a mane, and it was somehow fitting for the King of Knights who was often seen as a fierce lion protecting her land. 

“The king has given you complete freedom to wander the palace grounds and city if to your liking,” she spoke gently with her hands crossed over her stomach, a stance she often took while speaking to those above her. The thought had, surprisingly, never struck her. She’d never considered exploring the city, and it was an intriguing proposition. She frowned at the fact this opportunity only arose at Gilgamesh’s suggestion, but she adamantly dismissed this fact. 

For odd and unknown reasoning, Arturia disliked speaking in the morning. It somehow felt strenuous, like her lips had gone numb and needed time to heal. She only nodded. Swinging her legs over the bed, the girl removed herself from the bed and began undressing, allowing Siduri to help in choosing a new set of clothes she would wear for the day. She preferred simplicity, avoiding the lavish adornments that often accompanied Gilgamesh’s garments. Arturia still had difficulty in dressing herself in the queer apparel, thus requiring the servant woman’s assistance. She regretted her dependence, and thus resolved to learn more of their fashion in order to be less burdensome. 

The blonde sat before the large mirror that hung above a pine desk, the one Gilgamesh had leaned upon during their discussion.. She brushed her hand delicately across the surface, recalling the previous night. As Siduri worked to untangle her wild locks, Arturia contemplated their conversation, noting the man’s odd reluctance to tease and insult. It was certainly not what she had known, and was far from the first time he had betrayed her former opinion of him. His appearance, demeanor, manners, it all differed from what she had seen before. While he certainly retained much of his erstwhile character, the contrast could not go ignored. 

They were no longer enemies. No conflict prompted violence between them, and that allowed him to get close. A subtle blush found her cheeks as her mind lingered to the thought of him touching her. Every moment he took her hand in his, wrapped an arm around her waist, brought his face so dangerously near hers. How long had it been since she had been touched like that? Did such a moment exist? Her own queen had never been so intimate, and the knights respected her crown too much to ever touch her so daringly. Though she always pulled away, she never fully disliked his touch. She chided herself for finding comfort in that man’s warmth.

“Arthur, are you feeling alright? Your face is rather red,” Siduri noted, the woman carrying a concerned expression. The comment only caused her blush to deepen. Arturia rigorously shook her head ‘yes’, to which the brunette chuckled. Though it was clear the servant doubted her response, she left the observation unspoken. “Very well, then. Have you decided what you would like to do today?” the woman inquired. The girl was grateful for the change in topic.

“I would like to see the city once more. My time there ended too soon,” she spoke finally, her stare downward. Her hair had finally recovered elegance, courtesy of Siduri’s brilliant handmanship. The blonde locks reached just barely past her shoulders. It was often that her hair remained styled in an updo, for battle convenience. Now, she only wished for it to be up to avoid strands sticking to the sweat that raced down her neck. 

After requesting a hairdo that would restrain her hair, and Siduri doing so, Arturia was finally primed for a day in the city. The girl took one last gaze in the mirror, a distant gaze plagued by uncertainty. It was pitiful, she thought, the way she mulled over what she did not know. The disquiet that ravaged her spirit surmounted any thin hope she still held. 

Complacency crossed her mind. It would not be satisfactory, but the idea of her remaining and creating a new life for herself was a spectral thought. Though it never took priority, or even actual consideration, it was an option. A path she could take, should all else fail. She wondered what would even become of her life here, what she would amount to. Would she reveal herself as a woman, settle down, and live as she never had before? It was a simple thought, a simple outcome, one that could be reached with no effort, yet she denied its possibility. She’d never known normalcy, and thus refused it in any way. 

Her attention was caught by Siduri’s call, the girl quickly exiting the room to rejoin the servant. She noted her frequent divergence, the way her mind wandered off more than ever. Arturia resolved to improve her focus, to never be caught in an unprepared state once again. The two strolled beside one another, the woman occasionally explaining the architecture and design of the palace. The blonde was fascinated, in awe of their culture. She pondered if she would be more inclined to stay were it not for that man’s existence. 

The two entered the throne room before evading the palace, the very place she had first encountered Gilgamesh. The blonde took a brief glance at the man who leisured in his throne, documents in hand. He, luckily, had not sensed her stare, or if he did, failed to respond. Despite his relaxed appearance, it was clear he was quite busy. Arturia was quick to look away. 

The women stepped into the sun, the rays quickly disposing its heat upon their skin. Siduri was adapted to it, but Arturia still struggled beneath the fiery temperature. Even when faced with the cold, which she found more familiar, she still contended with the icy winds that shook her endlessly. The girl, put frankly, was exasperated by her inability to stand the differing conditions. 

They entered the marketplace, conjuring her first memories of this place. She recalled Ninki and Irkalla, the kind women who helped her in an hour of need. Arturia hoped for their good health, believing that samaritans deserved God’s benevolence. Siduri led the way, the blonde unhesitantly following. It was against her wishes to be lost, especially when she would garner attention as the King’s honored guest. Going astray welcomed unneeded conflict, and the girl wanted nothing more than to avoid a skirmish. 

Passing by a fabric shop, the brunette held an azure fabric to the girl’s skin with a delighted smile. Arturia halted quickly when bounded by the cloth, a look of perplexity staining her countenance. She looked down for a better view of the material, noting its blue hue that she quite liked. Her gaze then returned to Siduri, hoping she would give an explanation. 

“This color looks divine upon you, Arthur,” she exclaimed, causing a light pink blanket to fall over Arturia’s cheeks. Despite her slight embarrassment, the girl was impressed by Siduri’s choice, finding that the color resembled her gown’s. Upon thinking of the attire, more memories pained her spirit. The dress sparked a desire to reminisce, but she did well to dismiss and neglect the thought. 

What confused her more was Siduri imposing a feminine interest upon a man (or boy, an irksome voice in her head noted). Praying to gain insight on her intentions, she parted her lips to speak. 

“Excuse my naivete, but I must inquire as I did before. Aren’t these things meant for women only? It would be odd to see a supposed man dressed up so neatly. Such things should be reserved for femininity,” Arturia took the fabric in her own hands, eventually allowing the cloth to fall down to its normal position. Siduri grinned, turning around to continue their journey, her sight and hands often finding varying adornments such as jewelry and beauty items. 

“It is my secret belief that any man or woman can and should indulge in such joys. Beauty should not be limited to women, just as swordplay should not be limited to men,” the woman now spoke hushed, as if afraid of being overheard. The caution was understandable, as many would possibly brand her beliefs as heretical. The blonde pondered the thought.

“I suppose… I’ve secretly shared that belief as well. Had my kingdom recognized women capable of power, I wouldn’t have had the need to disguise my true identity,” Arturia glanced to her feet, her head bowed in subtle melancholy. It was a frequent thought, what her life would entail had she not pulled the sword from the stone, what would have become of her. She could have indulged in her pleasures, could have fallen in love, could have died a peaceful death untainted by regret. 

“Perhaps, one day, that faith will serve you well,” she responded, finally raising her eye line to take view of Siduri’s serene expression. 

“My hope is there will be a day when peace prevails over chaos and humans will see there is no superior. It will be a distant time, but… the future holds many things. There will be pain to come, and also joy. One cannot exist without the other,” Arturia was in awe of her resilience, her reluctance to entertain the wretched notion that nothing would ever change. She had experienced the future, and though there was still much to be done in regards to inequality, resided happily in the fact that her hope was not in vain. 

“I admire your will, Siduri. I find such strong ideals commendable,” the woman’s strength in her beliefs reminded Arturia of her own. While her foes often talked down upon her ideology, it was dishonorable to neglect her firmness, a trait she knew to have attracted a certain King. 

“Ideals can be achieved if one’s mind and heart work in tandem. It is inevitable that tragedy may soil the pursuit of your beliefs, but it only deepens the appreciation for joy and triumph. Though, if one lacks optimism, attaining that joy will never be feasible. You cannot find what you do not seek,” Siduri spoke smoothly, as if the monologue had been rehearsed. It was obvious these were aging beliefs, ones she would never abandon. 

“I will carry your advice in my search to a way home,”

“If I may, Arthur, why do you want to return home?” The question was not surprising. Arturia had informed the servant of the war and her wish previously, the topic arising as a result of Siduri’s undying curiosity. The former king gave a deep breath, her answer being the same as it always had been. 

“To save my kingdom,”

“But I thought you regarded your wish as a foolish endeavor,”

“I-I did, but I chided myself more so for my inability to correctly word my covet. I cannot abandon my people,”

“Why do you hold to such a desire? You have been granted a second life, that itself is work of the Gods,”

Arturia was stunned by Siduri’s insistence, her words catalysing a thought she hadn’t yet comprehended. Why is it that she continued to hold this wish? She had endlessly branded herself as a fool for hoping for this, yet still pursued a way back home. Perhaps it was Fuyuki she wished to return to, but what purpose would she fulfill there? The thought of confronting her master with the shame of her failed endeavor caused the girl unease and dread. Siduri took note of her discomfort, immediately regretting the question. 

“Forgive me for my insolence, I will speak no further of this topic. Let us go on,”

The two remained in silence for some time, the servant woman occasionally informing the guest of the city’s foundations and how things functioned, as well as the landmarks that defined Uruk. She learned of the Euphrates River and the White Temple, and came to know of the Goddess and God they worshipped, Ishtar and Anu. She found it interesting the way they practiced polytheism, as opposed to her people’s monotheism. She did not doubt their beliefs, contrary to what would be assumed of her. Arturia was fascinated by their culture.

To her relief, the former awkwardness swarming their atmosphere quickly dissipated as the prior discussion had been overwritten. However, despite the change of conversion, the thought still loomed within the girl’s mind.  
As their excursion continued, it became more prevalent that the people thrived, and were content. She noted their happy expressions untainted by adversity as they went on with their daily lives. They did not live in fear of conquerors or incoming battle, nor the ravages of the weather that did well to ruin crops. No, they were joyful. She was envious, desiring to see her own people existing with paralleled gaiety. Perhaps they did, and she was too foolish to notice, too occupied by her own suffering, which she tried to suppress in their favor. It was a vicious cycle. 

“Siduri, do the people of Uruk like their king?” the question came suddenly, as if it evaded her lips without proper thought. The servant to her side was surprised, wondering what she aimed to gain from asking such a question. She took a moment to think, then responded with a smile. 

“King Gilgamesh is well received by his people, but that was not always so. He was formerly known as a tyrant, an evil man who thought himself entitled to any luxury the world had to offer,” the woman looked to what was before her, Arturia’s glance remaining on her. She internally scoffed at the fact, as it aligned with what she formerly knew of him. It made sense, but she knew there was further information to be shared. Siduri turned her focus to see the girl’s expression, deducing that she wished to hear more, and she obliged. “He trudged carelessly in pompous, golden armor. He raped any woman he fancied, treated his servants with next to no respect, and abused the power bestowed upon him by the Gods, but… then he met someone, a friend,” her expression turned tranquil. 

The very concept that such a man, who thought so highly of himself, would ever have something so simple as a ‘friend’ shocked her, and she could assume that this friend even had a part in Gilgamesh’s grand change. She always wondered what prompted such a shift, why he was slightly tolerable, and she had finally gained an answer. 

“My knowledge is limited, but this man is perhaps to thank for our King’s newly found benevolence. He built these walls and led his people to prosperity. Though we once denounced him, he has become our pride,” she explained further with little detail, leaving Arturia desiring more, but she restrained her urges. The girl carefully considered the story, exploring what was left unsaid, and arriving at her own conclusions. She tried to fill the empty spaces, but only conjured bias thoughts that laid in her favor. 

She disliked admitting the fact, but it was clear revision was in order. Her opinion was always soiled by her asinine impression of him in the war. He was rude, inconsiderate, and had the galling nerve of an animal who thought itself the top of the food chain. It must’ve been him before meeting this friend. Regret washed over her, bathing any notion she held for him in reformation. Though he still had whims and antics that annoyed her to no end, neglecting his efforts was tantamount to unknightliness. Arturia resolved to reconsider what knew of him. If his people could find new respect for him, she too could muster the strength. 

Their trip was abridged by Siduri’s need to return to her duties within the palace, to which Arturia obliged. She was happy to find refuge from the heat. As they journeyed back, the girl once more took view of the fabric, an unmistakable gloom finding her eyes. 

“My apologies, I wished to show you everything, but it seems we must resume our activities another day. Is there any place I can take you to within the palace?” her words disrupted the silence. The blonde wondered if she wanted to even visit any other place. She had spent much time within the comfort of her own room, training her sword technique and even meditating, but it was bound to turn boring if kept consistent. A thought entered her mind. 

“Take me to the library please,”  
_________________________________

“You were a King of Knights?”

“Yes, I always led my men from the front lines. I was unbeatable,”

The conversation felt like a memory, Arturia recalling the discussion she and Gilgamesh had the night before. She hated to recount her history so much, she already did so frequently in her head, but found herself victim to Siduri’s enduring persistence. 

“You must be proficient with a sword,” she replied. They were nearing the library with a quickening pace. Arturia was anxious to begin her research, unsure it would even do much to assist her goals. The doubt and confusion from Siduri’s impounding words still blighted her spirit, even in spite of her countless attempts to dismiss the uncertainty. Maybe it wasn’t that she wished to return, she thought, but that she just wished to leave. 

“I’ve never been one to boast, but I do take pride in my skills. I can use some magic, but I haven’t the sufficient mana to perform such tasks. In the war, I employed magic to conceal my sword,” 

“For what purpose?”

“My sword alludes to my identity, and it is common for servants to conceal their true name for strategic purposes. If a foe knows your name, they know your abilities, ” Arturia responded, using what little energy she had to summon the holy sword she valued so greatly, Excalibur. The golden blade shone brightly, the light gradually fading and revealing its design. Siduri looked on in awe. 

“I understand. How does one gain this mana you speak of?” she brushed a gentle touch across the hilt, then across the blade. Even after its many uses in battle, Excalibur retained its elegance and beauty, as if untouched by the ravages of war. Siduri portrayed a delightful expression, one of intrigue and wonder. The sword was soon to disappear, but its lasting impression would remain. 

“A servant typically receives mana from their master, but I haven’t one in these times. It is also possible to extract a person’s life force and use their energy, except I would never stoop to such shallow means. There is another way my master told me of, but it is…” she stopped herself before the taboo words left her lips. A very subtle blush stained her cheeks, but it did not go unnoticed by Siduri’s observant view. Just the mere thought of the act halted her every thought, causing a fit of embarrassment and shame. It was a normal thing, she knew, but it did not settle well within her. The servant chuckled, her steps coming to a halt. It seems they had arrived. 

“You needn’t speak any further, I believe I know what you mean to say. I will leave you to your studies, Arthur. I hope you find what you are looking for,” Siduri bowed reverently. Arturia bowed in return, then entered the large room. She watched the servant leave, her form becoming smaller as she waltzed down the halls. Once out of sight, the girl entered, finding herself impressed by the quantity of books that occupied the space. 

She wasted no time seating herself after picking out some books regarding their history. If unable to learn anything of the Holy Grail, which was likely, it would suffice to be more knowledgeable of the city that Gilgamesh ruled. There were many stories, ones of conquer and triumph, of monsters and danger, and much more. If not for its ancient design, it would resemble a normal library, like she had seen in the modern era. She became comfortable and opened the book, beginning the countless stories that would satisfy at least some curiosity.

Arturia read in empty silence, not another filling the room, but this isolation was short lived. She sensed the presence of another. The blonde doubted the possibility of a threat, but refrained from being too comfortable within the palace. She was still an outsider, but she knew people feared what they did not know. 

“I see you’ve returned, Arthur. How did you like my city?” his smooth voice was almost a relief. She did not know what actions she would take had it been someone unfamiliar to her. Arturia suspected she would be silent as always, but feared that anyone would try small talk. The former king did not dislike people, but favored silence frequently. However, there was a needed conversation to be had between them, and she was grateful he found her. 

“I rather enjoyed it,” she responded, failing to look him in the eyes. Gilgamesh neared where she sat and leaned against the table, his arms crossed. His signature smirk curled his lips, but she somehow didn’t find it annoying. 

“I wonder how it compares to yours? I take great pride in my city,” his smug expression surprisingly did little to her. She realized his aim, his intention to raise a reaction from her. He lost his simper when seeing she only responded with a somber countenance. He awaited her words, hoping a reason for her gloomy demeanor would be presented. 

“I believe… I owe you an apology,” she looked down at the book on the table, her face remaining despondent. He was stunned, to say the least. The foreign expression was odd to see him have, his eyes slightly widened. “In the war, you were… unbearable, to put it simply, but I realize now that you are not the same man I met then. I allowed my prejudice to mantle your development, and for that… I am deeply sorry,” she finally gained the courage to look him in the eyes. He was still slightly shocked, but his expression morphed to a joyful one, one not underlined by any ill intention. 

“I will accept your apology, and I ask that you return to my room,” now her eyes had widened. Arturia kept her iration in check, but found it hard to do so when he requested she enter his chambers. She released a deep breath, her tone as polite as it could be. 

“Though my opinion of you has improved, I still will not-”

“Oh, silence yourself. I ask for more information, not for your services,” he scoffed, removing himself from the table. She sighed, embarrassed to have assumed something of that kind. It was not unwarranted, as he had adamantly expressed a desire to deflower her, yet she still looked away in shame. Arturia arose from her placement and followed Gilgamesh to his chambers. 

_________________________________

Initially discomforted, she found solace in his distance. Perhaps it was purposeful, perhaps not. He refrained from getting too close, as if wary of her reaction. She never knew him to be so considerate, a prominent fact that continued to haunt her. It was clear she was putting forth the effort to not doubt his every word and action, but her stubbornness was a hefty obstacle to overcome. 

His room was significantly fancier than hers, as expected of a materialistic king. It did not surprise her, but she did quite like the adornments. It was not overly exuberant, but perfectly alluded to his role as king. She stood by the window, reluctant to sit upon his bed. He sat upon the soft cushion, again speaking no further to allow her to begin. 

“Our first encounter began with a duel between the Lancer class servant and I. He was an Irish hero named Diarmuid Ua Duibne. He had challenged me, and I could not refuse. In the midst of our fight, we were interrupted by the Rider class servant, the King of Conquerors Iskandar. He asked that we submit to him and offer our services, but as one would expect, we outright refused. Then you appeared, branding us insolent for naming ourselves king. You proclaimed you were the only true king,” 

She heard him scoff, her gaze drawing to him. He appeared amused at his own words, the girl sighing exasperatingly in response. Arturia then continued. 

“We realized that you were the servant who had defeated the Assassin servant, even though that was a fabrication. Then, the Berserker servant arrived…” 

She stopped, hesitant to speak of him. She dismissed her trivial feelings, realizing that she had laid him to rest in her mind the moment she drew her sword upon his heart. 

“You were angry with his appearance, finding his lack of coherence unsightly. You attacked him, but he was able to defend himself quite well. The two of you engaged in battle, but it was cut short. Though you meant to undo him promptly, your master demanded you retreat. Your iration only increased, and declared that only a true hero was worthy to look upon your glorious presence. It was then that you left the battlefield.

Afterwards, Berserker attacked me in a fit of rage. Lancer came to my defense, but his master used a command seal, an unbreakable demand that signifies a master’s control over a servant, to kill me. We resumed our battle, and he greatly wounded my left hand. Rider insulted his master for disrupting our knightly battle with petty tricks, demanding that they withdraw. They did so, and the battle ended, but was not resolved…” she finished, her tone hushed. It was considerably an easier subject to talk about than her own history, but worried it would do little to satisfy his needs. Arturia decided to continue. 

“After that-”

“You may end there. I have been delivered sufficient information,” he leaned back slightly with his arms crossed over his chest. She was surprised, but grateful. The girl nodded and began nearing the door. 

“Very well, then. I will take my leave,” spoke the blonde. As her hand fell upon the door handle, he continued speaking, grabbing her focus. 

“I request that you visit my chambers every night after dinner to tell me more of the war. Is this an acceptable agreement?” he smirked, his intense gaze glued to her. Arturia contemplated the idea, wary of any ulterior motive. She recalled her resolution to not doubt his every action, the promise becoming increasingly difficult. A cold sigh escaped her lips, and she found his glance. 

“That is acceptable to me. Goodnight,” Arturia opened the door and left the room, returning to the library to resume her research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, next chapter! Looks like they're finally beginning to get along somewhat. Crazy, I know. I'm surprised with how quickly I was able to get this out. With my busy schedule I thought this story would suffer a little, but I've actually been fine. Maybe I'm speaking too soon, but I hope to continue releasing within at least a week and a half of the previous chapter. I think I can do it, it's a good distraction for me!
> 
> I'm honestly excited for the next chapter. There's gonna be some tension. I've already written some dialogue for it, and it's gonna get pretty heated (not sexually, that'll have to wait for later). 
> 
> Also, I've started watching Avatar: The Last Airbender, and oh my god. How did I not see it sooner? It's so amazing! It lowkey inspired me to write, but I'm sad I finished it so quickly. I might just have to watch it again, lol. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you as always for loving and supporting this story! Every read, kudos, and comment mean a lot and I'm truly grateful for everyone who takes the team to read this sotry.


	7. Misplaced Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumors of a monster's terrorization spreads to Uruk, and Gilgamesh has a heated discussion with Arturia.

Hushed whispers plagued the silence of the library. The servants murmured amongst one another, but lacked the animosity that accompanied gossip. Rather, their expressions were fearful, with uptilt eyebrows and forlorn frowns. It was an odd sight. Often, the attendants hadn’t any conversation, instead remaining quiet until spoken to. She was not bothered, but perplexed.

The girl tried vigorously to keep her eyes upon the clay tablets before her, to allow the information be untainted by any hindrance, yet it seemed her attention always drifted to the purrs that suffused the area. They were not raucous, nor vexing, instead her growing curiosity submerged complacency. She impelled the slab away from her and finally allowed herself to indulge. Arising from her seat, Arturia found determination, a desire to know their predicament.

“May I inquire what it is these murmurs intend to keep quiet?” she asked, employing a delicate tone in an attempt to lessen her intimidating nature. Arturia’s features only alluded to her interest, the true degree of her intrigue unknown to the servants before her. She realized it may be personal, that she was not entitled to be told, but she could not ignore her urges. It was a habit, a dated tendency. It was unbefitting for a king to not be informed, but she was no king. No, she was a guest with no authority, no right to demand intelligence. She could only rely on the servant’s will to be enlightened.

The man looked anxiously to the other, uncertain of a response. After acknowledging their lack of manners, it was not long before they bowed reverently, and apologetically, to the girl. “We apologize for our actions that may have disturbed your peace,” he uttered ruefully. Standing upright, apprehension still painted their expression, and the girl released a sigh.

“Please do not apologize. I ask only for my own selfish desires, do not force yourself to comply with my inclinations,” she grinned, though not entirely truthfully. The girl feigned amenity, keeping her ardent wants concealed beneath the carefully structured guise. Arturia did not favor contrivance, nor did she do it often, but it did well to hide her true feelings in pursuit of a good image. It both blessed and cursed her former reign.

With a nod, the two evaded the area portraying relieved expressions. However, Arturia’s resilience was not yet broken. The girl knew Gilgamesh was the quickest route to finding an answer, that he could demand it from his servants, but feared the unrestrained malevolence he could bear upon those below him. While she had seen his change, and even admitted it, she had no desire to risk another’s well being in pursuit of her own cravings.

Returning the clay slabs and books to their original place, she wasted not a moment fleeing in search of Siduri. While not guaranteed information through her, the woman always differed greatly from the other servants, and maybe felt more inclined to inform Arturia of the current predicaments plaguing the city. Afterall, she was her personal assistant, and if asked upon would serve her purpose, though she disliked taking advantage of her position. If Siduri hadn’t the liberty to speak on the topic, she still would not force an answer. The blonde raced through the halls. Even with limited knowledge of the palace’s layout, she checked every room, careful not to disturb much.

When entering the outer garden, she finally found who she had been looking for. Siduri was speaking with another servant, but ended the conversation when seeing the girl approaching. Dismissing the man, the brunette neared Arturia hastefully, unaware of the undying curiosity she would soon be met with.

“Siduri, might I ask of the rumors that are spreading throughout the palace?” it was an unbased assumption, a conclusion she brought herself to. The girl had only observed two servants sharing secretive sayings, and it could have been a personal affair. Arturia inwardly chastised herself for her lack of mindfulness, but saw little consequence. If the woman was able to give her an answer, her goal was fulfilled. If she hadn’t known of her inquiry, it was a small ordeal. While she disliked her hastiness, she found solace in the dual outcomes.

At first, a perplexed expression painted her features. Arturia looked patiently, finding subtle details in her face that already gave an answer. However, it was not long before her countenance twisted to that of concern, of fright, and the blonde sensed unease. Siduri’s wary gaze scavenged the area in search of eavesdroppers. When securing their privacy, she brought the girl close.

“There have been… rumors of monsters terrorizing the near cities. Not much is known of the attacks, but it is a cause for fear. The people await the King’s course of action,” she spoke in a murmur, heedful of her transgression. It was not a high crime, but Gilgamesh certainly hated rumors, even ones not of gossip. Arturia listened carefully, making no room for a misunderstanding. A determined look overtook her expression. She had never been one to sit idly in the face of danger, and resolved to do whatever was in her ability to help.

“Thank you, Siduri. The source of the information will be kept secretive. I will go to the King,” she bowed her head, employing her kingly manners. It was a stubborn habit, but not one she had the intentions of breaking. The brunette bowed her head, unable to oppose her actions. Gilgamesh was a smart man, and the woman only hoped he would take mercy on her insolence.

Arturia speedily walked the grounds of the palace once more, only this time, with a destination in mind. She neared the throne room with determination. When entering the large room, her eyes immediately came upon the golden man, looking over the information given to him by a servant. His eyes perked subtly when seeing her. Gilgamesh gave a sway of his hand to dismiss the servant, allowing the blonde his undivided attention.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Arthur?”

“Tell me of the monster attacks in the neighboring cities,” though she wished to use her full volume, her words emerged hushed in his favor. Gilgamesh lost his swagger, releasing a sigh in response.

He shifted within his throne, his left leg crossing over the right with his cheek resting on an open palm. It was a common position he took. The girl stood before him with unimposed tenacity, strengthened only by her resolve to help. She resided at the bottom of the luxurious steps, unwilling to near him much more. It was a miracle he even heard her demand, but she was grateful for the distance. He looked down on her, uncertain of a reply.

Gilgamesh finally broke the silence, his lips parting to comply with her dauntless request. “Very well, then,” he began, his bottom arising from the seat. The blonde placed a hand on his hip, his stride confident. There was never an ounce of fear within his gaze.

“The ‘monster’ is believed to be a demon called an Alû. It takes hold of a human as they sleep, and frightens them within the night. Possession often brings unawoken slumber. They curse a painful malady to any they face,” he slowly neared her with a solemn countenance. She stuck her ground and refused to move, even as he advanced further.

“The walls surrounding Uruk disallow its havoc. I deem it of little importance,” he now stood before her, arms crossing over his chest. Arturia did so as well, the two staring daggers into each other.

“Have you no care for the neighboring cities? If you name yourself King of all, then you are the protector of all,” she gave little time to respond, her persistence already solid and unbroken. He looked down interestedly, refraining from a response to allow her to continue. “You are powerful and able to dispel these threats. I know I hold no authority,” she bitterly noted, “but it is my opinion that you combat against these creatures, for the sake of those people,” Arturia spoke passionately, her words fire that emerged from a dragon’s tongue.

Gilgamesh took a moment to formulate a proper reply. He smiled, looking down upon the girl. Her face remained the same, if not a little red.

“And I assume you wish to help in this endeavor?” he assumed, but it was not incorrect. The man could see it in her eyes, her ardent desire to help, to do something. Her face relaxed at his inquiry, as it seemed he was open to the idea. She nodded. Gilgamesh placed a hand on his chin, his other a base for his elbow. He stirred in thought, but was quick to come to a conclusion.

“I will do as you suggest, Arthur, and I will permit you access to accompany me. Is that to your liking?” his signature smirk appeared. Relief brushed over her, the girl originally fearing his mind would be difficult to sway. If the conflict had been directly linked to him, perhaps it would have been, but she was nonetheless grateful for his willingness to comply with her requests.

“Thank you. I guarantee you my support,” she bowed her head with a hand above her heart. It was an odd declaration. Never once had the idea of them working together crossed her mind, but weirder things had happened. Arturia grinned, prompting a more genuine smile from the king.

“Join me for dinner tonight, Arthur. We will speak more of this endeavor then,” he turned around, but not before peering over his shoulder to look at her. She reluctantly agreed, her former obstinacy hindering her new resolve to respect him. In return for his ‘kindness’, she would do what was possible to show her appreciation.

_________________________________

Arturia awaited silently to be escorted to the dining room, the girl unable to venture there by herself. She hadn’t been there long, and hadn’t yet the opportunity to freely explore and learn more of the building. Had she left on her own in search of the room, it was likely she would end up lost, and she refused to place herself in such an unfortunate position.

In the meanwhile, she found herself bored. Various assortments of books and clay tablets laid upon her desk, but she had already skimmed through them. She quite liked reading, and could do it at a rather quick pace. It did not take long for her to finish the stories, and she had yet to come across any helpful information. Arturia did not place much hope in them, but was nonetheless disappointed.

Consolation soon came as the door opened, Siduri standing within the frame. Arturia arose in a sheepish manner, the girl trying to conceal her relief. She did not take well to being unoccupied, and even if being with that man, would prefer anything to do.

“Arthur, are you ready?” she asked in her gentle tone, and the girl only nodded. The servant woman led her throughout the palace, not much conversation being held. It was slightly awkward, but Arturia appreciated the silence. The two came upon a large entryway, and the woman halted her steps.

“King Gilgamesh has requested privacy. I can go no further. The King will escort you back to your room,” she bowed as Arturia nodded in response. With a deep sigh, the girl steeled herself, uncertain of what tonight’s events would bring. She hoped for a night of pleasantries.

The blonde entered the large room, immediately noting the opulence. It was no surprise, seeing the man that he is, but she could not help being impressed. Their meal was already upon the table, the steam escaping the food with speed. It was still hot, and her mouth watered at the savory sight. Only two entrees laid on the surface, one at either end of the table. She quickly took a seat, waiting patiently for the golden man.

He joined not long after she arrived, his attire different than before. While still luxurious, it was slightly more casual, but fit for a king. Smiling in his presence was not so much a chore anymore, yet it still took effort. She had often brooded when seeing him, and made a conscious effort to be mannerful for him, but old habits die hard. Arturia looked away when noticing her gaze had lingered for too long, but Gilgamesh was very much aware of where her eyes laid.

“What new information do you have regarding our expedition?” she spoke before he could tease, the subtle red hue on her cheeks slowly fading. He took his seat, but his gaze never quite left her. Arturia was uncertain of why he constantly stared at her so ardently, like he wanted something, but would never be so foolish as to ask. The stubborn girl wouldn’t let him know she cared for his actions.

“The latest incidents occurred in Larsa. I think it wise to trek there. We will travel by chariot,” he began his meal, the girl digging into hers. She restrained her urges, being sure her manners were fully employed. Now that they were alone, Arturia refused to give him any reason to tease her.

That being said, she still could not draw her stare away from him. It riddled her. Never before had her attention been so heavily focused on one thing that wasn’t battle or her duty as king, let alone on a man who had been the center of much of her animosity. Arturia blamed it on her manners, knowing it was polite to look at whoever was speaking.

“And what army will you bring?” The blonde wondered, not seeing much evidence that one even existed, She took a modest sip of her wine, being sure to regulate her intake. The girl wanted to avoid an incident like the banquet, for she disliked the nausea and inability to think straight.

“It may not be to your liking, but if you are to use your full power against our enemy, privacy would be required,” he peered directly into her eyes. A blush revisited her cheeks, and she was quick to break their staring contest. Realizing her folly, and immaturity, she looked back up to find his gaze once more.

“You mean just the two of us?” Arturia employed a solemn expression, one that alluded to little. While he was an observant man, she was skilled at concealing what hid below. It was never her intention to show much emotion to this man, even in light of her improved opinion. She respected him more, but her trust remained strained. It would take much more to build up something of that caliber.

“Yes,” he responded quickly as he laid down the utensil used to eat.

She pondered the thought. While he had verbally declared his desires, he hadn’t ever truly acted on them, save for sometimes coming too close. Gilgamesh, despite what he priorly notioned to, hadn’t overpowered her, hadn’t taken advantage of her in a sexual manner. She knew herself capable of defending herself, and deduced that it was the best option.

“That… would be smartest. The people mustn’t know of my abilities,” she spoke with a lowered gaze. Even if the people had some knowledge of the magic that graced this world, she feared exposing them to hers would raise suspicion and welcome hatred. Arturia knew Gilgamesh could demand their acceptance, but she wanted to be liked for her own self, not due to a decree from their king.

“I’m glad you agree,” he smirked, then took a drink of the crimson wine beside his food. He had mostly finished, but did not lay another finger upon it. Within the silence, Arturia took advantage of the moment to satisfy some of her curiosity.

“While we linger on this topic, do you not have an army?” Her food was gone, and their discussions proved to be the only reason they still sat at the table. The girl placed her hands in her laps, her shoulders poised with proper elegance.

“I have no need for one. Uruk’s wall is defense enough,” He one more rested his chin on his fists, his torso slightly leaned over upon the surface. For a king, it was rather bad manners, she noted, but would not proclaim his impolite position. She had no desire to quarrel.

“I suppose, but what if the unforeseen happens? Then what will you do?” Arturia rebutted, uncertain the hypothetical conflict would be enough for him to see the importance of a military. She had been dubbed the King of Knights for a reason, and still prided herself on her victories in battle, even if that pride had been sullied by the pain of what followed.

“My abilities will suffice,” he spoke nonchalantly with not much care in his tone.

She silenced herself, realizing her efforts were fruitless. Perhaps it was true, perhaps the walls were enough. Perhap _he_ was enough. It angered her to see the little hardship that plagued his lands. Her people had suffered, and not just by her hand. The fear of weather, soil, and especially invaders never quite left her people’s hearts, even with her triumphs in battle.

Arturia sighed. No matter her attempts, she found that her past constantly tainted her mind, even in moments when conjuring the memories was unreasonable. Though she continued to scold herself for the action, she never learned her lesson. Taking note of her saddened countenance, Gilgamesh spoke.

“How have you enjoyed Uruk? It’s quite remarkable,” his tone was as cocky as ever, and the sudden question retrieved Arturia from her despair. She recollected herself and formulated a response, for once agreeing with his words.

“Yes, I would say so. I’ve spent much time in your library, and it is quite the source of information. Thank you for that,” she nodded her head slightly, showing her appreciation through the subtle act.

“I take it you’ve been researching a way home,” he responded, his demeanor slightly shifting. She had never seen sadness within him, and though not entirely melancholy, he did little to hide that he disliked it. It unsettled her, but Arturia dismissed the notion. Why would he be sad to see her go, she wondered, and continued to talk as if she noticed nothing.

“Yes, and it has entertained me to learn of this city’s history. I’ve come to be more familiar with Uruk,” she smiled subtly, finding their culture and past truly fascinating. It was much she was unfamiliar with, but that only increased her interest. Within her research she came across a Goddess she found to be especially intriguing; Ishtar, the Goddess of fertility, love, and war.

Gilgamesh, however, was silent. He looked as though he were pondering, evaluating her words. She found the moment awkward. Her gaze traveled the room in an attempt to occupy herself, but it did little to ease her discomfort. Arturia looked anywhere except for at him.

It was unusual to see him so contemplative. He was a man of certainty, never a doubt plaguing his proud decisions nor his actions. He took little criticism, if any, and she could only imagine the adversity of his royal advisors, if they even existed. Yes, it was an odd sight indeed, but she was almost grateful for it. Even if partly deity, it satisfied her to know a human still lurked beneath his golden exterior. Perhaps more of her opinion required reconsideration.

“Let us return to my room. I would like to hear more of the Grail War,” it felt like eons before he finally spoke. The girl nodded and began to arise from her seat as he did. Not much more was said between them as he still eluded a disconcerting aura. She followed him in silence, unable to weave any sentence together.  
_________________________________

In little time, they had reached their destination and he allowed her to enter first. She took her position beside his desk, her lower half leaning up against it. He stood by his bed, but did not sit. His features were still underlined by an odd emotion, one she could not quite describe. It was anger, but something softer hid beneath.

“Before you begin, I demand to know of your progress regarding a return to your own time,” his tone was stern. Gilgamesh crossed his arms over his chest, his stance guarded and poised. He was acting oddly.

“I will be honest. I’ve not found much knowledge in your libraries. I suppose I should have expected it, but I was holding to any thin strand of hope I could,” she answered, looking down to the ground. Though a little arbitrary, Arturia complied and told him.

“Are you saying the information I hold is insufficient?” it was an odd assumption to come to, and she raised her gaze to look upon him. He appeared more irate than before, as though anything she said would only further his pique.

“Word it as you will. It was witless to gamble my return on books that were written before the grail’s known existence. It would seem you are my only option,” She was slightly annoyed, but continued to answer as if his odd behavior carried no effect. Arturia hoped he would soon allow her to begin, but it was a pointless desire.

“This realization fits comfortably with your improved opinion. Convenient, is it not?”

He finally looked her in the eye, his gaze engulfed by restrained fury. Though impulsive and unreasonable, he never had allowed his anger to become completely unruly, and she was grateful. Had he allowed his indignation reign over his actions, she feared what would come of it.

Arturia’s expression shifted to confusion at his accusation. She was a woman of honesty and rarely resorted to fabrications to gain what she wanted. And even then, it was for the sake of righteousness, not for her own desires. Her emotions mirrored his as she became vexed.

“Are you doubting my prior words?”

“You would sooner bite your tongue and bleed in silence before praising my abilities, yet flattery falls so easily from your lips. Perhaps I underestimated your skills as an actress,” his arms fell to his sides as he neared her. She glared at him, feelings of betrayal beginning to seize her. This was unforeseen, and she could only respond with the honesty he doubted.

“My words are of no false origin. Do you deny me your end of our deal? I was guaranteed access to your powers, and I have faith that your abilities will-”

“You dare to speak so boldly of your faith? The same faith you held in that imprudent covet of yours that has delivered you to me? Tell me, Arthur, how well has your faith served you in the past?” he interrupted her, his towering figure now only inches away. No longer was she just angry, but saddened, and confused. Arturia flinched, his insensitive words impaling her with great force. She wondered what hurt more, his words or the blades he used in his proposal.

The silence returned, but their gazes spoke plenty. They both refused to look away, their outward iration concealing how hurt they were. They paralleled one another, but refused to see that. Arturia’s shoulders tensed up, her body finding unease all over. Though Gilgamesh still feigned the appearance of composure, he was anything but.

“You are being unreasonable,” she finally responded, her tone deep and cold. The tension rivaled what was found in battle. Their argument conjured the same feeling that fighting brought, yet it somehow pained her more. She had recognized his change, apologized for her prejudice, and he repaid her with unwarranted resentment? Arturia searched for reasoning, for any logic within his outburst, but found herself empty handed.

“Am I, King of Knights? Is it not unreasonable that you realize your folly, yet still pursue a way back to your time?” His eyes peered down upon her, but once again, she was not intimidated. She never was by his whims, but a new emotion accompanied their interaction. She never thought he could betray her, she never thought he would have the chance. She never thought they would be on the same side, and it became increasingly obvious that they never were.

Using her full strength, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away, nearly causing him to fall upon the cushioned surface. Arturia walked toward the door with intentional speed, wanting to quickly flee whatever had transpired. She placed a shaking hand upon the knob and began to leave, but not before giving a farewell to him and what little they had of a relationship.

“I have greatly misplaced my respect. It is you who speaks with empty words, not I, King of Heroes. This mission will be our first and our last,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst, heat, and conflict, oh my! This is probably my favorite chapter so far, this one and the second chapter. I am such a sucker for angst and what better topic of discussion than something he really doesn't want and something she really wants? I'm slowly introducing how contradictory Arturia's desires are, because that's something that's plagued her a lot. One of my favorite scenes from Zero is at the end after the grail is destroyed and she learns her contradictory way of ruling (and yet still somehow wants to redo the selection of king in Stay Night but we're not gonna talk about that). She's a complicated character. 
> 
> Also, I know I'm giving Gilgamesh a bit more humanity and depth than what is shown, but I think there is a lot of unexplored characterization within him. I know some characters can be evil and awful just for the sake of it, and I love characters like that, but I don't think that applies to him. If that was the way he is, he wouldn't have had Enkidu, and they're the key to unlocking the complexity within him. Though he exudes cockiness and perfection, he is more human than he is God, in my opinion, and he also favors humans more than he does Gods. I know he's 2/3 Deity and 1/3 human, but that's the irony of it. I don't know if he's delved into as much in the games and visual novel, but in the animes he's kind of one dimensional. 
> 
> It was also reminded to me that there was not paper in Ancient Uruk, so that has been corrected in this chapter. And regarding the language problem, Arturia is able to understand everyone due to the grail's magic.
> 
> And with the Alu, I'm still researching more of its lore so more will be known about them in the next chapter. Though I haven't found much, I'm sure I will. And if all else fails, I can always turn to the Dungeon and Dragons lore, haha. 
> 
> Anyways, as always, thank you so much for reading and supporting my story! I look forward to the next chapter!


	8. What is Unsaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In preparation for their trek, Gilgamesh and Arturia meet with the tutelary Goddess of Uruk, and Gilgamesh's mother.

Preparations took longer than expected, considering the two kings refused any face to face conversation. They were strong, resilient, and most of all, stubborn. Servants ran marathons to deliver messages between them, where they spoke solely of the trek before them. Not a single digression misguided their discussions, if one could name it as such.

She pleaded. Arturia endlessly asked to meet in person, even if she disliked the thought of it, but he firmly declined his company. The girl cursed him, cursed his reign and all that he was, and soon adopted her own reluctance to see him. It was always there, her adamant hatred, but it had furrowed, deepened into an unretrievable feeling underlined by a bitter sadness. She had trusted, respected, and somehow grown to like him, and he repaid her with gratuitous wrath. The girl wished to say she was unsurprised, but it was unexpected, and she shamed herself for her own credulity.

“Might I ask what you are doing?”

The question came suddenly. Arturia had sensed Siduri’s newly arrived presence, but had failed to respond. Her unbroken focus persisted, taking priority over replying, but she quickly realised her lack of manners. The former king descended her practice blade, one she had requested from Gilgamesh, and finally gave the woman her attention. Her chest arose and fell with every strained breath. It was clear the drills had drawn on plenty long enough, so long it could be considered madness. Her ire controlled her swings, supplying her attacks with added strength, but it hindered her precision.

Collecting herself, and wiping her perspired skin, Arturia took a seat upon her bed. Siduri remained within the door frame.

“My apologies, but I was training. Perfection never lasts, and one must always hone their skills, even if an expert. I cannot always rely on my mana, so my raw strength must be retained,” her voice was coarse, clearly affected by the overexertion. Arturia removed the cloth that adorned her neck, cleaning her body all over with the light fabric, hoping her appearance wasn’t too disheveled for the woman’s liking.

“Are you completely void of your mana?” Siduri asked, returning to the topic of her magical energy. It was a limited conversation they’d had before, not much detail being shared. The blonde eyed the servant as she neared her.

The brunette finally reached the bed, a gentle hand extending forward to take grip of the rag. Her delicate touch greatly differed from Arturia’s rough ministrations, and she found the change a nice one, one she wouldn’t protest. The former king still had not fully adapted to being so pampered, but nonetheless enjoyed the service.

“Well, not exactly. As I sleep and eat, some is restored, but I am nowhere near my former strength,” she reminisced slightly, admiring her great feats of the past. Her first victory at the Battle of Glein, the Battle of Badon Hill where she single handedly brought down nine hundred and sixty men, and one of her greatest feats, vanquishing that man with her own golden glow. Though as she continued, an unknown thought occurred, and her face shifted with uncertainty. “If I’m honest… I haven’t reasoning for this. Even if I lack a master, I am able to supply my own mana, and it is only enforced by my master’s energy,” Arturia stared at nothing, pondering the new thought. It hadn’t yet occurred to her that she should be able to conjure her own energy. So caught up with the lack of it, she neglected to locate a reason for it.

“Perhaps it is that your body requires adjustment to these times. You are from the future, and have been brought here by unknown power. It must take time in order to adapt,” Siduri briefly stopped her work when finding Arturia’s gaze, but was quick to resume. The blonde considered the thought with an open mind, but found that another question more rigorously tugged at her conscience.

If Siduri was here, it probably meant Gilgamesh had something to say.

“You may be correct, but I digress. What is it you have come here for?”

“King Gilgamesh has sent me to inform you that the preparations for your travel are complete. He expects to leave in the early hours of tomorrow,”

Things were finally ready. She’d anxiously awaited the moment they would be able to begin their journey, the last obstacle before she was able to leave the palace, leave Uruk, leave him. Though she expected a more jovial reaction within, her demeanor remained saddened, uncured by the welcomed news. Arturia nodded, arising to her feet, concealing any unwanted emotion with vigilance.

“Tell him I would be ready to leave now,” her countenance mystified Siduri as she searched for any telling feature that alluded to her true feelings, but she was a skilled actress, as the king had phrased it. The woman stepped back away from Arturia, the dampened cloth remaining within her grip. The question of her reaction begged to be said, but the woman kept her urges restrained. Siduri could tell that not even she knew her true feelings.

“I will do so,” her head nodded ever so subtly, a common response to show her reverence. Arturia looked away, unable to decipher her own thoughts. Her light steps came upon the window that provided light for the room, her gaze finding refuge on the outside world. Soon, it would be her world. If fleeing Uruk, there was no chance of returning to her time, and she would have to lead a third life, one more unwanted than the others. The aggrieved realization stung.

“Thank you, Siduri,” was all she muttered, all she could mutter. Grateful to keep her voice in tack, and without cracking, Arturia’s longing glance remained towards the city before her. It was beautiful, and she almost regretted having to leave. As she’d always noted, had it not been for him, she would have enjoyed her life here.

“There is one more thing,” the sentence forced her attention. Siduri remained within the same spot, only now she faced the blonde. Intrigued, Arturia responded, hoping that whatever was left to be said wasn’t distasteful.  
“And that is?”

“It is required that you visit the Temple of Nin-sun to request the Goddess’s protection. Ninsun will ensure your safety if prayed to,”

“Ninsun?” The name, as all things did, rang unfamiliarly within her mind. She scavenged the research she once took in, but lacked any remembrance of the title. Perhaps, further studying was needed, but she quickly dismissed that thought. Why learn more of a city one intends to leave? To explore more would be salt to a wound.

Taking note of Arturia’s confused expression, Siduri elaborated with solemn wording.

“The tutelary Goddess, and Gilgamesh’s mother,”  
_________________________________

Gilgamesh’s mother…

He was a human, that she knew, but he was _human_. It’d always been said and known, but never displayed. She stirred in thought, her mind occupied as Siduri guided her through the halls to the throne room. Though she knew her way, and would have preferred to be alone for the moment, the servant was required to escort her, to ensure she wouldn’t “try anything”. Put simply, she was offended, finding that the king once more doubted her actions and decree to defend against the rampaging demon. She remained silent, riddled with thought.

When entering the room, he came into her vision. She kept any reaction internalized, not allowing him the view of any reaction. His crimson orbs bore into her verdant ones, the heated gaze returning. It defined their strained relationship, even prior to their altercation.

Her features remained indifferent, as did his. Though no words passed between them, their ardent gazes were enough to relay unsaid feelings. Arturia finally broke it, walking ahead to retake her spot next to Siduri.

“She won’t be joining us,” words finally left his lips as proud steps brought him ahead. The brunette bowed in silence, then returned to her duties. Slightly disappointed, Arturia remained distanced from him with caution. He already held a habit of closing whatever space kept them apart, and she would do nothing to provoke his arrogance. The blonde watched him with a scrupulous eye, unwilling to allow any other business between them.

Gilgamesh led her to the grand temple. As the beautiful structure came into sight, her eyes slightly perked with interest. Keeping vigilant while in his presence, her eyes wandered around the white building with awe, as well as a need to scavenge her surroundings. Should things go awry, was there any other exit? What windows could she escape from? In light of his distrust, she prepared for the worst.

If he wouldn’t trust her, she sure as hell wouldn’t trust him.

The king halted his steps. He too gazed up at the building, but his countenance differed. He was angry, but it was not a vile anger. It was soft, buried, as if unwanted. Arturia could not quite decipher what it was he felt, but it was an odd look for him. She quickly looked away, wanting to appear unconcerned for his emotions.

But he saw, and he held back a smirk. Gilgamesh turned to face her, taking in her appearance. Though not in his good graces, it was near impossible to deny that he treasured the moment, treasured seeing her after so much time.

“I will enter first. You are a woman of God, so I assume you know proper behavior,” the moment was brief, and she merely nodded in return. She still had yet to speak, and he almost waited to hear her voice, but found it trivial to do so. The king began his ascendance up the stairs, soon entering the temple. Arturia watched anxiously, uncertain of the future.  
_________________________________

The golden man sauntered in, the woman before him ringing a joyful expression with serenity. She was content to see him once more, eager to be of use to her son.

“Gilgamesh,”

“Mother,”

“My son, what is it you ask of me?” her tender words sounded as they should, a mother’s tone epitomized. Her blonde locks shone brightly like the man’s before her, and it was clear he was her son.

He looked to her with insouciance. Gilgamesh continued near her, then knelt hesitantly in respect. The man found insolence within the action, deeming it unruly for a king to bow before any other, even if a Goddess, even if his mother.

“There is a person I don’t wish to see hurt,” he spoke softly. The woman tilted her head, looking down upon him. He arose from the shameful position and found her gaze, an irate expression painting his features. Her eyes subtly shifted with concern, her breaths tame and easy.

“I sense sadness in your heart, masked by wrath. Relieve yourself of blindness and look to your truth,” she spoke like a prophet. Ninsun was a wise woman, especially in regard to her son.

He looked away, but her peer remained focused. The Goddess had always been skilled with interpreting what hid beneath his golden exterior. There was humanity within him, thus human struggles as well.

“I did not come for guidance. I only ask that she remain safe,” his tone was resilient and obstinate. A gentle breath escaped her lips, the woman disappointed by his unwilling nature. He was an immovable object, tied down by himself, but she was a Goddess. Even if against his wishes, she would speak her truth.

“Very well, but heed my words. She is the axe you once envisioned, anew from the pain of what was before. Now bring her to my feet as you once did. You loved that weapon as though your wife, did you not?”

“Speak no further of my dreams,” The king barely let her finish. He quickly averted his sight, wanting no more than to leave quickly, but even he knew such a task was not so easy. Gilgamesh grit his teeth to hold back the obscenities he wished to rain down upon her. Their safety, her safety, relied on the Goddess before him.

Her gentle eyes remained unbothered. Ninsun peered forward, an uncommon serenity found within her gaze. Had any other been subjected to the man’s stubbornness, perhaps their patience would have drawn thin, but she remained forbearing.

“I speak only of the verity that hides within. You are a man of conscience, bestowed with the gift of clairvoyance. Do not deny the truth only when you see fit,” she scolded him. The words stung, and the blonde man before her barely allowed a sliver of defeat show on his face. The expression was brief, however, as a smirk curled his lips. Ninsun responded with her own grimacing smile.

“And what is the truth, mother?”

“You fear what once purloined your only friend,”

 _Fear_?

A rupturing laughter came from the man, the sound echoing through the temple with little heed. It was forced, another fabrication in favor of his own means. A careless hand wandered his hair as he brushed back the golden strands. Ninsun remained collected, a stern expression returning to her features.

He continued laughing as it gradually died down, the man soon silencing himself with devilish expression staining his countenance. The woman’s features were cold. Her patience was lasting, but her tolerance was not.

“I would never fear the Gods,” he spoke in a grim tone. His eyes were a sea of blood, a dangerous stare pointed at the Goddess. Her eyes remained focused on him, and he only barely returned the gaze.

“It is not the Gods you fear, my son. You fear fate, you fear longing. You fear being alone,” her voice resounded, filling the area with swift warmth. His expression quickly twisted, the hidden madness finally emerging. He was angry, intolerant to the dirty words that dare leave her lips.

He looked at her with tame rage, but his eyes remained wild. Gilgamesh only scarcely kept his ire restrained.

“I fear nothing! And I needn't any mongrel who will only disappoint me! I am enough,” His booming voice overpowered hers, yet paled in comparison. Her words were wise, truthful, and his differed greatly. They were the words of a ravenous beast, a man desperate to retain his pride. He no longer resembled a king, but a scared child unwilling to accept the truth.

“And still you fret for her departure. Your actions betray your words,”

“Silence! You-”

“Demanding my silence merely evinces the truth. Bare witness to what is right, Gilgamesh, and perhaps your efforts will be rewarded. Claiming fabrications as reality will further your adversity,” the resolute woman barely raised her volume, yet she spoke louder than he could ever hope to. Her eyes never once left his figure, her focus unbroken by his whims. Her lips opened once more to speak.

“Allow yourself the pleasure you speak so dearly of,”

His eyes widened, and he quickly looked away. Tension left his shoulders as he regained perfect posture. The man’s face found a new look, one untainted by rage, but abandoned by arrogance. He was indifferent, a blank canvas. Ninsun looked upon him with shame. It had become clear he knew the truth, he always did. His conflict laid not with the truth, but with adopting the will to acknowledge it.

“I am finished," a hot breath left his lips. The woman lifted her chin, her sagacious eyes peering down upon him. For once, it was him who was pitied, him who was felt sorry for. Ninsun found little use in furthering the matter. It was clear he would listen only to the person who had his heart.

“Retrieve the girl,”  
_______________________________

The blonde strolled cautiously within the temple. She doubted any need for combat, but her vigilance took reign of her actions. If she could not trust Gilgamesh, she would not trust anything, especially the woman he came from. As she neared the grand staircase, Arturia caught sight of a beautiful woman, a Goddess, for whom she assumed would be awaiting her.

“Rid yourself of wariness, girl. I pose no threat to you,” her prudence was clear. Upon hearing the demand, tension jilted her muscles, and her body found new poise. Ninsun grinned slightly at her actions. “Name yourself,” the next order came, and the girl would oblige.

“Arturia Pendragon,” the name left her lips so easily. It felt as though centuries since she last uttered the name, and yet it felt natural. She had never truly presented herself under the title. In her times, she was King Arthur. In the war, she was Saber. It was her name, her god given name, yet she was known as anything but.

“A woman of honesty, I see. Tell me, why is it you lie to his people but not to his mother?” The woman’s eyes perked as she leaned against an arm of the chair. The laxed position was familiar, and it became clear who her son took after, though she was oblivious to whoever his father was. The two shared grace, an undeniable royal presence many would cower before.

Arturia pondered her question, a query she too had constantly asked herself. She looked away, hoping to find a sufficient answer, but such a miracle would not come. Why was it she refused Gilgamesh and his people her true identity?

“I… haven’t knowledge of that myself. I do know this, however. I respect God,” her gaze returned to the woman, a needed change in subject coming with her words. Ninsun raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her proposition. The woman gained more understanding of why her son was so smitten with this girl.

“Do you fear them?” the question came unexpectedly. Arturia retained eye contact, but wanted nothing more than to look away once more.

God was not meant to be feared. He was praised, idolized, loved. Her people looked to Him with hope, faith that He would grant them with what they wished for. She would never fear the Man she was told to devote her entire life to.

“I haven’t any fear. My prayers are rewarded by divination. If worshipped, God has no need for wrath,” it became clear their words differed ever so slightly. Them, she spoke. There were Gods, not a God. Arturia feared insolence, but her worries faded as a gentle laughter emerged from the woman’s lips.

“You speak too naively. A woman looks upon you with a scornful eye, seething with envy for what refuses to be hers. I may shield you from demons, but not from a Goddess,” Ninsun regained a solemn expression. Arturia’s features twisted with uncertainty, the grim warning one she hardly expected.

“I fail to understand your meaning,” she spoke, hoping more light would come upon the subject. If one truly looked upon her with such wrath, her safety was not ensured. Arturia dreaded the thought relying on Gilgamesh for protection, but her abilities were arbitrary and untrustworthy. With such an evil eye upon her, leaving the palace would be unwise.

Taking note of her disdainful expression, the woman aimed to ease her worries.

“Worry not, the King will protect the meteor he once bared to me. You will learn soon enough what I speak of,” a soft smile graced her lips. However, it seemed her words did little to quell the uncertainty that plagued her mind, only now a different matter occupied her thoughts.

She still struggled to realize his humanity, the fact that he was the same as her. Though he was part God, he was also part human. She wondered why the matter worried her so.

“Your son… ”

“You sound as though in question,” her interest was piqued, curious to the thought that riddled the girl’s mind. Arturia released a sigh.

“Forgive me, but it often escapes me that he too is human,” her shoulders lost their normal poise. She was constantly battling incertitude, a prisoner to her own mind. The former king abandoned her royal essence, now just a vulnerable girl before a powerful Goddess.

“Though he holds more Godliness than he does humanity, he is more human than he is God. Like any, much darkness plagues his insides. He is a shadow of his golden might. The light he sheds is unfound within him,” Ninsun’s voice faded to a mother’s tone, no longer a Goddess. The woman before her was undoubtedly a strong being, but no force could undermine the power and presence of a mother.

Arturia stirred in thought, unable to formulate a response. He was repulsive, intolerable, exasperating to the extreme, but there was reasoning. He was not a perfect man, though he persistently boasted himself to be. A human lurked beneath his strong exterior, a man unburdened by the duties of a God and king.

“What is seen is not always the truth, Arturia. Scavenge for what is unsaid,”

“I… I ask for our safety,” she spoke quickly, unable to speak further of the topic. She wanted to deny his struggles, to blame his indignance on his foul way of being, but his mother spoke of deeper reasoning. Arturia’s features twisted with distaste. She hadn’t expected such a conversation, nonetheless to be faced with Gilgamesh’s humanity.

The girl wanted to believe he was just an awful being, but it became increasingly clear nothing was so simple.

“I grant you my divine protection, and in turn I ask for his salvation. Now leave, your fate awaits,”

“Thank you,” with no further words, the former king left the room with newfound conflict. Her gaze remained to the floor, and she refused anything else her focus.

Scavenge for what is unsaid…

What a difficult task for man who leaves nothing unsaid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my goodness. It's finally done. I'm so sorry it took so long, finding the motivation and time to write has been so difficult lately. This chapter was actually unplanned, but I wanted a conversation with Ninsun in here, so this seemed like the best time to include it. The next chapter is more eventful, so hopefully I'll have more inspiration to write it!
> 
> In all honesty, I don't think this is my best. Like I said, I was having a really hard time finding motivation to write and I think it shows. Perhaps in the future I can spice it up a bit, but I do really like the dialogue. Ninsun ain't afraid of nothing. 
> 
> Anyways, I was kind of playing with the idea of doing a Q & A? I don't know if anyone would be interested, but I want to do something in between uploading chapters that would allow me to be active and let you all know I haven't disappeared. I'm not sure where I would do it (I could do it here, but I don't want to interrupt the chapters), but it was just a thought. 
> 
> As always thank you for reading! Your love and support is always appreciated and I'm so grateful for you all. Stay well and safe everyone!


	9. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arturia is found in a hard spot and finds herself grasping at straws in order to attain the power she needs to overcome her enemies.

Enervated breaths filled the cumbrous silence as the two continued their trek in pursuit of ravaging demons, still not a word spoken between them. Arturia knew of the journey’s toils, but still had not adjusted to the undying heat. She awaited night time, where at least then it would be a temperature she had grown used to. Britain’s weather was often gloomy and dismal, and while she also took problem with the cold, it was an easy task to simply add another covering. In the heat, one could not remove their skin, and thus were prey to the sun’s scalding rays. 

The blonde man lingered behind, arms crossed in a fit. It was odd to see him so silent, so unwilling to comment upon the predicament. Any words that did emerge were untainted by distractions, said with the sole purpose of furthering the voyage. Two kings who had bickered so adamantly in the past now struggled to say even the simplest of words. 

They rode in a golden chariot pulled by two donkeys, each in pristine shape and health. Her mind wandered to the man she knew as “Rider”, the famed King of Conquerors Iskander the Great. He was a proud man, unplagued by the shame and guilt that constantly tore at her heart. Though he held a harsh opinion of her kingship, he never hesitated to recognize, and even praise, her skills. She still found herself shocked by his unnerving gall, his lack of shame when asking the she and ‘Lancer” join his army. 

Lancer… The thought of the noble warrior brought an ache to her chest. He was a model knight, loyal even to the moment he drew himself through with the point of his own spear. The Irishman, Diarmuid Au Duibhne she remembered, was undone twice by the one he had pledged his loyalty to, his two masters that betrayed his allegiance. It was a true pain to be betrayed, for it could only be done by those you had given trust. 

She recalled fighting against him, fighting with him. It was a glorious, honorable duel, tainted by the arrival of unorthodox warriors warped by arrogance. He sacrificed his weapon for her. That alone attested to his cachet, yet never an ounce of cockiness left his lips. Yes, he took pride in his skills, but an unsure warrior was a fool. 

The memories conjured a subtle grin. Her eyes relaxed, losing the former tension that stressed her skin. Her eyes drew upon the floor of the chariot, no longer scavenging the surrounding area. 

“A smile is an odd sight upon your features,”

Her countenance almost immediately shifted to one of disgust, a groan fighting its way through locked lips. She refused him acknowledgement, but his tone was enough to know he meant to tease. Arturia missed the silence already, though awkward. The former king was never one to neglect conversing upon the goals and plans of a trek, but even necessary conversations felt as though a chore with him. 

_Scavenge for what is left unsaid…_

The cursed words twisted her stomach. The thought was angering, putting forth effort into bringing “unsaid” woes to the surface for a man who lacked even the most common decency. She respected the Gods, respected his mother, but any respect that she adopted for him was swiftly ridden of the moment he doubted her motives. 

He scoffed, an unsatisfied response to her silence. As always, he saw her as entertainment, nothing more than an object to mock. Arturia looked onwards, never even giving a glimpse to his direction. 

“Silence will lead you nowhere. Don’t be unreasonable, Arthur,” the words emerged in a mystifying tone. Partly mischievous, but there was genuine exasperation present. 

Her shoulders stiffened and a red hue came over her features. Finally, the girl peered over her shoulder, finding his gaze with not a bit of hesitation. His gall never failed to raise her ire. 

“You speak of unreasonable silence?” she began, her tone slowly increasing. “You have no right, Archer. I begged to speak with you many moons, only to receive slighting letters that only muddled our travels more!” her voice was pointed, every bit of pent up anger finally being released. Though not to her knowledge, she had awaited this moment, the chance to speak her mind. 

“The only unreasonable one is you, all mighty King of Heroes. To speak of baseless assumptions and refuse an audience to those in pursuit of important endeavors speaks to the very definition of the word,” her words entered a whisper. He was not worth more effort, she deemed, and denied him more of a reaction. 

Then, he smiled. 

“Do you feel better now, King of Knights?”

The girl froze. Though she did well to hide much of what she felt, her shocked expression was seen with little effort. 

“What?” the words emerged without thought. His devilish smirk only did more to anger her, her mind spiraling with conflicting feelings of iration and confusion. It was a simple phrase, a simple question, yet it sent her into a maddening whirl. 

It then became clear. With a groan she turned around, losing any former desire she held to talk further. She had assumed the argument would go on further, but he had differing intentions. 

He baited her, taunted and provoked, all in order to release her fury. He saw it, her withheld anger, seething inside with no way out. If kept further, the consequences were unseen, and thus he forced it out, as if ‘helping her’. Arturia nearly laughed at the thought, him helping her without expecting compensation.

She returned her gaze forward, recollecting poise and serenity. Though she’d never say it aloud, it was a needed moment that brought her at least some form composure. 

A response evaded her. She would sooner die before thanking him, as if his efforts weren’t in some way at her expense, and she simply had no want to further the discussion. 

“When this monster is disposed of, I am leaving Uruk. I would suggest preparation for my departure be done accordingly,” Arturia was cold. Though his reaction was unseen, she knew he was unhappy, unsatisfied. It almost made her smile. 

“So be it then,” Gilgamesh hissed.

Nighttime came shortly. The two had halted their travels in favor of rest, the first night of their lengthy trip. The duration was unclear, but they wordlessly agreed to finish hastily. The less time spent together, the less chance of another unneeded altercation. 

Silence prevailed. Arturia prepped her bedding, readying herself for much needed rest. Gilgamesh, in his endless glory, lounged as though his surroundings had not changed from his throne room. He sat upon the golden chariot, one leg crossed over the other, wine glass in hand. It was a familiar sight, yet somehow infuriated her more. 

“Should it be unknown to a king that indolence brings stagnation?” she looked to him with disgust. He laughed, a cacophonic sound resembling the deafening bell of an unruly church, though lacking the reverence found in such. The girl rolled her eyes, something she’d seen plenty of in the modern era, and continued her work. 

“You break your silence for such trivial words? I’m nearly disappointed,” he crooned, taking a bold sip of his crimson wine. She had nearly finished before throwing down her supplies in response. 

She could not weave the human language into an assortment of words that would accurately portray the pure fury that soared through her veins whenever his lips parted. Just as she had an unexplainable effect on him, the reverse was true as well. He could crawl into crevices she hadn’t known existed, fester in the holes tainted by anger. 

It was unheard of for her. Even in her time as king, as the constant fear of conquerors stained her reign, never had her ire reached such lengths. When the ravages of war had given reason for uproar, she remained stone faced, gallant in the face of strife. 

But this man… 

He rediscovered the emotion that had furrowed so deeply inside her. 

“I trust that you are more than capable of keeping watch. You will stay a considerable distance through the night. Should you come closer, your people will mourn their fallen king,” her words burned, yet his simper never left his features. He was enjoying it, she knew. Arturia didn’t care, he wasn’t worth her reactions. 

Yet she never failed to give them. 

“I guarantee your safety,” his hand was placed over his heart, a sorry mockery of knightliness. She groaned, lowering herself upon the cushioned surface. It did little to compare to the comfort of her bed, but she was nevertheless grateful for the servants who had given her the supplies. Arturia wasted no time settling herself in, hoping that any repose could even slightly alleviate the frustration within. Amongst defeating conquerors and historical heroes, this feat would live amid her greatest accomplishments. 

She closed her eyes, the fatigue of the day slowly catching up. It was uncommon, but she was asleep nearly as quickly as she had laid down. 

Gilgamesh’s grin slowly sank to a frown, one that portrayed the true thoughts that swarmed his mind.   
_________________________________

The man looked to the sky with not a sound, his head tilted as though he challenged the stars. She laid there, close yet so distant, as she had explicitly desired. He arose from his position, strolling along the sand that blanketed the ground. Despite being surrounded by it, he had never fancied the scattered particles. 

She stirred in her sleep, a childish groan emerging from her lips. He snickered, admiring the small glimpse of vulnerability. He was surprised, shocked even, that she had so willingly lowered her guard to rest. He almost expected another thrilling display of stubbornness, seeing her eyelashes struggle to remain open. No, she knew slumber was vital to complete the mission. Perhaps, she wasn’t as much a fool as he’d thought. 

Still, not a moment passed that he hadn’t recalled their argument. He riddled himself with his words and actions, something unheard of for the man who reveled in pride. 

He never doubted her motives, had never thought she was using him. Though meeting her moments before, she was a noble woman, the very definition of what she called a ‘knight’. His envisionments of her only furthered this notion of her. Why had he been so ruthless? Why had he hurt her so much?

With a scoff, he dismissed the thought as well he could. He dreaded unraveling, that this girl’s effect would cause his undoing. He refused to even entertain the thought. 

Despite his disliking for the sand, he promptly sat next to her sleeping body, going against her desires and closing the distance between them. The sun had begun to rise, and it was soon her turn to take watch. He dreaded this, hoping to keep her soft features within sight.   
A piece of hair fell upon her lashes, and he wasted no moment removing the strand. His hand moved without thought, and he savored the brief contact. He’d been avoiding her, that was clear, but he so longed to see her, to hear her, to touch her. His urges were becoming unkept. Gilgamesh was a prideful man, a King, yet melted at her every deed. The moment was broken by a hostile reminder of her warnings. 

Though gentle, even the little action was enough to send the girl into a manic response to danger. Within seconds, excalibur had manifested in her iron grip as the blade grazed the skin on his neck, her emerald orbs burning into his crimson ones. 

He felt her bated breaths on his lips. She was angry, more so than before, and he swore for a moment he was almost afraid, and yet somehow aroused. 

It felt like eons until her blade finally vanished as her mana slowly diminished, making her body weak. His expression remained unchanged, if not for the barely visible glint of excitement in his eyes. 

“This was a mistake. Our shared travels end now,” her tone alluded to not a bit of mercy. If not for her fatigue at the appearance of her blade, the sand below would have been painted a gruesome red. The girl pulled away. She wasted not a moment leaving his presence. 

“Do you wish to leave those innocents unsaved?” An indifferent expression stained his features. She peered around her shoulder, glaring at him with every bit of unreleased fury she still harbored. 

“So now you care for my wishes? How convenient,” she repeated the very words he spewed that night. Arturia climbed upon the chariot and took hold of the reigns. The girl hadn’t much knowledge on the craft, but was naturally inclined with the use of transportation. It seemed some magic lingered from the Holy Grail War, and though it had been the means for this mess she found herself in, it was at least useful in it’s own way. 

The blonde had every intention of abandoning him, and thus she did. Not a strike of hesitation hit her. She knew him to be capable and had no internal quarrel of leaving him to fend for himself, for he spoke constantly of his own abilities, and though she hated to agree, he was indeed a tough opponent to overcome. She heaved the reigns and gave a yell, causing the asses to move forward with great speed. They were rested, and she wished she could say the same for herself. 

Though she begged herself not to, the girl looked back at the frustrating man, his features stained by indifference. He looked unbothered, but it was not an unexpected expression. The King of Knights continued moving forward, resisting the ever growing temptation of peering over her shoulder to see if his expression has changed. She restrained herself, yet was disappointed that temptation even existed. 

Guilt overcame her. An unwelcome feeling of regret washed over her firm decision to leave him, and she nearly turned around. She could not determine the origin of the feeling and renounced its existence, frustrated that he prompted such a response. With every bit she traveled, the negative sensation spread throughout her body, and she begged for it to leave, only for it to deepen its effect.   
Her body began to feel weighed down, as though her muscles refused to heed any command. With fluttering eyes, she began to notice herself becoming nauseated, her consciousness seeming to slowly fade. It was no longer a result of her remorse, but rather other means at work. Her mind desperately tried to recall what Gilgamesh said of the creature wreaking havoc upon the cities. 

_An Alû… A creature that takes hold… takes hold of…_

The girl found conjuring any prior thought incredibly difficult as her mind became hazy. 

_It frightens them, yes… and what?_

She became frustrated with herself, her fingers losing the strength to hold the sturdy reigns. They slipped from her touch and the chariot halted. 

_They curse a painful… a painful…_

Her lashes began to weigh upon her eyes, and sleep begged to steal her consciousness. She was afraid, greatly discomforted by the horrible feeling. Arturia hung on, grasping at any thread of clarity she could. Had her mana not been so weak, so unreliable, perhaps she’d have some resistance, but alas, she was found stripped of any power. The guilt was beginning to make sense now, and she cursed herself for giving into anger. Her mind went blank, the only coherence being a faint whisper. 

_Arthur…_

_Arthur…_

**Arturia**. 

A ghostly haze surrounded the girl. She could not see well through the fake fog, but could make out a dark figure. She walked forward adorned in her cerulean garb, her hair drawn back in a neat bun with a crimson ribbon draping down upon her neck. The blonde was muddled, not only by her attire, but also by what she saw. Reaching forward, her gentle fingers felt nothing. Her feet continued to move towards the unknown being, her hand remaining ahead of her. She was nearly desperate to feel them, to feel anything. 

“My King,” a low voice called out. The very sound nearly made her drop to her knees, her hands clasping over her lips in order to suppress her sobbing. 

His lilac hair was long and soft. If not for her mouth occupying her hands, she might have reached out and touched it. The white fog around them began to dissipate, revealing a gruesome sight. 

Bodies littered the once bounteous fields of Britain. Atop the mountain of corpses, the girl kneeled and looked skyward, a grim reminder of when she was undone by the Homunculus knight all that time ago. Her hair fell over her eyes and concealed her gaze, no longer neat and proper. She was covered in blood, the sustained injuries feeling all too real. Was it?

“I’m here… again…”

Her voice was soft. It was not long before tears began racing down her cheeks, landing upon the once formal dress she wore so often. Her bated breaths filled the empty space, with dark skies barely illuminating the bloodbath. The former king was nearly grateful, uncertain if her resolve could handle such a horrendous sight with clearer vision. 

Her fingers began to tremble as she grit her teeth. The water droplets ceased to end, and she despised such vulnerability. Her Knight had vanished, and she desperately begged for him to reappear. In her last moments, she longed to see someone she trusted, someone she loved. 

It was that love that drove him mad, she reminded herself. He begged condemnation for his crimes. He lost himself to insanity as that desperate plea for punishment was never satisfied, never realized as she pardoned him for his betrayal. His anger festered into derangement, until he was no more than a hollow shell of the once great Knight of the Lake… because of her. 

Her memory recalled the moment she undid him for a second time. She could almost feel the wetness sliding down her face once again, both the tears and the water that showered them from above. Though unfamiliar to her, it seemed some sort of contraption that was meant to retaliate against a fire, should one happen. Arturia was grateful, for it masked the tears she shed that day, and she almost wished for rain so she could hide once more. 

“Everyone… Lance--... Lancelot,” 

_“Even after all that has happened.. You would still take up your sword for a reason such as that? What a difficult person you are…”_

The King of Knights could formulate no response then, and certainly could not now. It was his last words to her as he slowly faded, his body becoming no more than lavender particles blown away by the subtle draft of the wild flames. 

She got what she wanted. She did take up her sword for that reason and now yielded the consequences of her actions. It was racking, to know her sins unraveled those she trusted most, to know her sins dirtied the very hands she pledged to help them with. She understood why he lost all sanity, why his wrongdoings slowly spiraled down into a pit of lunacy. She felt as though all coherent thought slowly evaded her mind, and wondered if she too could become a servant by the name of ‘Berserker’. She grimaced at the thought. 

Her harrowing sobs grew louder, the girl no longer regarding much for her actions or the noise she made. It was hopeless. Was she to meet her end once more? Surrounded by the corpses of those who trusted her, who met their demise following a king that chased after unrealistic ideals in pursuit of perfect kingship? 

Perhaps Sir Tristan was right. Perhaps she was unable to understand the feelings of others, though that was all but the case this moment. She now understood too well, her heart aching as the riveting thoughts crashed against her mercilessly. Arturia deemed herself worthy of this pain, unworthy of of being forgiven by those she--

_“But King Arthur… You never once spoke of my many sins. You never sought atonement from me. You simply continued to stand before us in your righteousness. Had your righteousness condemned me the way you condemn yourself, I might not have fallen onto the path of madness in my quest to atone and save my immortal soul,”_

His booming voice nauseated her. She missed his voice, she missed him. The former king pledged reprimands through the use of the Grail, to make right her wrongdoings to him, and to her people, yet only furthered their disappointment. Perhaps… Perhaps it was no longer she wanted to redo her reign, but to erase her existence from man’s history. To have never pulled Caliburn from its anvil, and to live life as a girl unhindered by the burdens of the people. 

What an existence that would be, Arturia thought. It was enticing, the idea of a commoner’s life. It differed so greatly from that of a king’s. There was freedom, hope. She could have fallen in love, or had a true family. She could have been called by her true name. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I-- I am unworthy,” her voice continued to break, the painful words emerging with difficulty. She barely could muster the strength to speak, but refrained from silence. Though his words stung, he spoke of no falsehoods. His every word was true and her heart only ached more, unable to comprehend the damage that came from her actions. 

_“But this much I can say with certainty, King Arthur…”_

“One day, friend… I will atone, I will find my way back to Camelot… I swear--”

_“You were the greatest of all kings who lived. All of those at the Round Table who served you…”_

“It was not I,”

_“... felt the same as I did,”_

“I shouldn’t have been king!”

_“Though, my King, should you find it in your heart to forgive my every sin, I ask… please offer that strength to yourself as well…”_

Her tears suddenly ceased. Her shoulders lost all tension, and her body relaxed all over. She stared down at her hands, though they trembled still, a newfound feeling seized control of her. It was a prideful feeling, a strength bestowed upon her by the words of her loyal, fallen Knight. 

The hills of bodies faded from sight, her attire and hair back to their formal appearance. Power enveloped her muscles as the facade slowly broke. Her eyes opened, her face meeting first with the sand, then to the mountains of it before her. The monster had not yet made its appearance, but its effect was undeniable. 

As clarity gradually returned to her, she could remember what little Gilgamesh explained of the Alû. It was a demon-like creature that brought malady to its victims, and perhaps the dreamlike state was a part of its power. Though she wished to explore more, and think more of what Sir Lancelot had spoken, such a luxury was not available to her at the moment. Before long, she could sense the arrival of two, no three… Five newcomers, though one differed slightly. Arturia was all too familiar with this presence, and her body shivered to think of how another confrontation would proceed. 

Before that presence made a physical arrival, she came face to face with the horrible creature. It was a demon that bore no mouth, lips, or ears. Only frightening eyes burned into her soul, but she promptly arose from the ground and slashed at the being. Her sword revealed itself, as she still found it necessary to reserve any mana she could. Besides, the need to conceal her identity was now obsolete. 

The Alû continued its attacks, meanwhile trying to induce slumber within her again, but she found herself able to resist. Was it really Lancelot’s words that brought forward the new vigor? Though she failed to find an origin, she was nonetheless grateful. 

Two of the wretched beings lunged at her, her spry movements allowing for her to dodge their attacks, only for two more to come at her. She was surrounded, and though was able to fend them off with her sword for a short while, it became increasingly obvious she was at a grave disadvantage. Had she fully returned to her complete strength, overcoming these creatures would be a small feat, but the girl still struggled. Though there was a definite change in her mana, it was nowhere near her former state. She needed a catalyst, a sudden burst of energy to get her through before he arrived. 

Arturia was struck by one of the beasts in the stomach, her air nearly being blown out of her. She fell upon the sand with a painful thud, her arm immediately clutching the damaged area as a means to mediate the pain, but it was a hopeless endeavor. The beast packed a more powerful punch than she expected, and she figured a rib or two was now fractured. Trying to arise from the position, she found it near impossible. She stuck her sword within the ground and used it as a means to bring herself up. She finally stood upright, her torso leaning over the hilt of the blade. Another of the beasts flew forward, and she swung her sword once more, refusing to give in. 

A dazzling spear pierced through the creature with unprecedented speed. She looked towards the man’s golden glow, though instead of a sly smirk, a grim scowl replaced his normal expression. He jumped forward silently, wrapping his arm around her waist and getting her away from the center of the commotion. He remained silent, though she expected at least a single sardonic or rude remark. Beneath his grimace, she could have sworn to see genuine concern within his crimson eyes. 

She hated being rescued, let alone by him. He could have attacked back there, she realized, could have performed some grand display of power, but he instead took her out of the equation first. There was so much hostility between them she almost expected him to include her in whatever devastating blow he decided to impose on them. 

_Scavenge for what is left unsaid…_

Is that the sort of thing Ninsun meant? 

“Distance yourself, and I will handle those beasts. I will not tolerate any obstinance, Arthur. Do you hear me? Stay away,” he spoke resolutely, unwilling to take any other answer. It provoked anger within the girl, but she kept herself in check. Allowing her fury to dictate her actions led to his mess and she refused to be accountable for any more wrongdoings. As he spoke, he stared directly into her eyes, hoping that she was truly in no position to disobey him. She studied his expression, looking for the silence his mother spoke of. Her eyes traveled down his face, landing upon his mouth. Upon examining his lips, the girl steeled herself, willing to do what displeased her most if it meant not being subservient to them that held her so tightly in his grasp. 

There were other ways of transferring mana that she knew. They were less than ideal, but the King of Knights was never one to shy away from doing things that plagued her. The two finally landed upon even ground, and he gently placed her down. She knew he was more than capable, for more than she was at the moment, but it was not within her nature to lounge as another fought for her sake. The blonde man began to turn his body to return, but it was her turn to hold him down tightly. He was shaken by this, surprised that she had such an iron grip on him. 

Arturia cupped his soft cheeks within her rough hands, his skin being far more flawless than she’d ever liked to admit. The girl took a deep breath, then without hesitation, brought his face near hers.

Her lips crashed upon his. The blonde’s cheeks became a dark crimson hue, her eyes shut tightly as she refused to look him in the eye. His orbs only widened in shock as he furthered his judgement that she was a very interesting girl. She pulled away from him, finally gazing at the man before her whose power she absorbed. 

Though conceited, Gilgamesh had never lied about his ability. He truly held a terrifying amount of power, and now it was hers. She arose from her position on the ground, finding that the pain in her stomach had subsided, at least for the moment while strength soared through her veins. Arturia wished for a swift defeat and thus raised her sword skyward, uttering the very words that once brought down the man beside her. 

“Ex… CALIBUR!”

The golden brilliance erupted from her sword, the demon beasts soon being no more than victims to the weapon’s magnificent power. The blade faded from her gasp, as too did her armor. Arturia’s lids begged to close until she finally gave in to the fatigue, falling into the Babylonian King’s arms. She was out cold, and he could only look at her in astonishment. 

_This_ was the beginning. 

_________________________________

The man sat in silence, the only sound coming from the nervous tapping of his foot. The scabbard before him shone beautifully as it beckoned memories of it’s true master. His gaze then shifted to the insignia upon his right hand, a lingering shadow of the deadly battle that took place only days ago. Though parts of it were faded, a result of the command being used, the longest strand remained bold. 

  
He wondered, would it even work? It wasn’t a ridiculous thought, but neither was it a sound one. He should've given it to her then, before she left this world. 

The magic user fretted for her servant’s well being, finding difficulty in seeing her leave in pursuit of such an idealistic dream. Though he fought for her wish, shared her troubles and sorrows, he was unsatisfied, disappointed that he was unable to convince her to make any other wish upon that damned cup.

Still, his only hope was that she was alive and well, and perhaps she was succeeding in her covet. Guilt still tore at his heart, and he swore to make reprimands for his inability to change her mind. 

He took the scabbard in his hand, allowing himself to admire the sheath’s magnificent design and construction just once more. He conjured any remaining magic within him. Seeing as the insignia remained upon his hand, perhaps there was a chance it’s abilities remained as well. His right hand raised and he shut his eyes, holding the weapon’s cover tightly.

“By the power of my third command seal, saber… I command that you receive Avalon, that which is rightfully yours…”

The command seal shone with a bright light and magic enveloped the sword’s shield, then in an instant, it vanished, as though it were never there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH!!! I'M BACK!!!!
> 
> I am SO sorry for my long hiatus! Though I have good reason, I feel so bad, but I am proud that I've returned. For a while I was afraid I would lose all motivation to continue writing this, but then something just hit me. I didn't have a Sir Lancelot to uplift me, but it was something, and I am very grateful.
> 
> Alright, first let me explain myself. The main reason I wasn't able to update is that my computer broke. I have an iPad, and a bluetooth keyboard that I could write on, but with the way it is, it makes it very hard to write for a long period of time because my body gets uncomfortable. I already have a grandma's body from years of dance, so hurting it more was not a good thing. Secondly, I have four jobs! It's not as bad as it sounds and I've been able to manage it well, but the holiday season made it hard as I was working nonstop. Now that my hours aren't so crazy demanding, I've been able to find the time to write, and I finally managed to finish this chapter. 
> 
> I've been looking forward to this chapter for so long, y'all don't even know. It was one of the first scenarios I envisioned in my head when planning this story and I'm so happy for it to finally be released. This chapter is fittingly named The Beginning because it truly marks the start of them both learning from each other and being willing to listen to one another. 
> 
> I always really loved Arturia's conflict with Lancelot in Fate/Zero. The ending with him speaking over her at the Camlann Hill always got me and I really wanted to incorporate it in some way because I just think it's such a sad and beautiful moment, and it served as a fantastic catalyst for Arturia to finally learn to forgive herself. 
> 
> I also forgot to include this in last chapter's notes, but when Ninsun speaks of the meteor and axe, those are actually directly from the Epic of Gilgamesh in which he dreams of those things, representing Enkidu and the friendship they would soon share. Though I would never say that Arturia is replacing Enkidu, she will be the one who will continue the development that Enkidu began in Gilgamesh. I read an excerpt where it stated that Gilgamesh loved the axe as though it were his wife and it was just perfect. 
> 
> That being said, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Like I said I am working four jobs so I cannot guarantee fast updates, but I swear to everything I love that I will finish this story and it will be my first. I am currently working on a NorEmma story, so if you are a fan of The Promised Neverland that is something you might wanna check out! It'll definitely be more lighthearted than this story and a bit more cheesy, but it's kind of meant to be. I'm proud of this fanfiction, but sometimes I just wanna write cute fluff!
> 
> Regarding the potential Q&A I wanted to do, I saw someone suggest a discord chat and thought that was a great idea! So if you'd like to join, I will put the link below. Questions don't only have to pertain to the story, but I do ask that you refrain from asking things that are uncomfortable or too personal. It may also allow me to let you guys know where I am in regards to uploading the next chapter and just be more connected in general :)
> 
> https://discord.gg/vKKskVeF
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all have an amazing day and that you stay safe! Remember wear a mask outside and follow social distancing rules. Love you!


	10. A King's Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following Arturia's feat against the Alû, Gilgamesh checks on her. Things have changed between them and the King of Heroes has a simple request of the King of Knights.

_ Though, my King, should you find it in your heart to forgive my every sin, I ask… please offer that strength to yourself as well… _

The girl’s eyes fluttered open, her memory hazy and unserving. She had little recollection of the events beforehand, but awaking in her bed was somehow odd this time. It was bright outside, the sun shining through powerfully. Peering down, her sight came upon the bandages that tightly enveloped her chest and stomach, though no pain erupted from the area. Upon sitting upright, an ache plagued her mind, and she clutched her head with a grunt. 

The memories came swiftly, almost too much so. Her heated discussion with the King of Heroes, her encounter with the late Knight of the Lake, what she had to do to secure her victory over the Alû… The riveting sensation created a headache, though it was brief and to her delight, the pain gradually dissipated. She swung her legs around and slowly placed her feet upon the ground, hesitantly arising from the bed. Though faintly weak and tired, no injuries hindered her movements, a fact she was both surprised by and extremely grateful for. 

Arturia realised how thirsty she was, and how  _ famished  _ she was. With a subtle growl emerging from her stomach, she wrapped her arms around the area, as if that would stop the horrid noise. It was almost as though the sound summoned the servant girl. 

Her attention turned to the door opening slowly, Siduri popping through hesitantly. It was clear she meant not to disturb the slumbering warrior, but a grin graced her lips as she realized the girl had awoken. Arturia’s emerald orbs peered down, seeing a silver plate adorned with fruit and water in her hands. The former king could barely retain her manners and wished to seize the food for herself. 

“Arthur, I’m so glad to see you’ve regained consciousness. You were out for some time,” she placed the platter down gently, gesturing for the girl to partake in the meal. “I’m aware of your insatiable appetite, so please, indulge. Should you desire more, simply ask,” with a hand upon her heart, she bowed, a sight that had become rather constant. The blonde simply nodded, bringing the delectable food to her lips. If this was the pleasure Gilgamesh spoke so preciously of, perhaps it wasn’t such a distasteful life to choose. 

She inwardly scolded herself for the thought, the man’s name beckoning an odd feeling. Guilt, shame, embarrassment. The emotions twisted into a massless whirl, swallowing some of her heart, but an unusual warmth kept the negativity at bay. It was unorthodox for any thought regarding him to be met with something akin to joy, and she swiftly dismissed the sensation. 

“Siduri, how is your king? I trust he is being well attended to,” she spoke, finding it necessary to discern his wellness. Even if their relationship remained somewhat strained, he did ensure her safety, and she took advantage of his kindness in the form of a powerful kiss. 

Kindness? It was odd to associate such a word with the King of Heroes, and the odd feeling only deepened within her. She disliked it, and though she tried to perish the thought, it lingered in her mind like a haunting shadow. 

Siduri’s features twisted into a surprised expression, before gently transitioning back to a poised smile. The blonde took note, muddled by the woman’s nonplus.“His Highness returned with you in his arms and not a single injury,” Arturia grimaced, “but he displayed a countenance I’d never seen before. I cannot speak for what endeavors you endured upon your travels, but I can say something has changed ever so slightly in the King,” she admitted, unsure of what to make of her ruler. It was not an unwelcome change, however. 

Arturia studied her words, trying to decipher what sort of change she alluded to. The servant woman took notice of the girl’s determination and elaborated as best he could. 

“You needn’t fret. He hasn’t grown angry or imposed his wrath upon anyone, he almost seems…” she scavenged for the strength to speak, her words impeded by hesitance. Siduri neared the girl, her voice entering a hushed whisper. “... softer,” she finished, afraid the man would hear her. 

It was rather unexpected. ‘Soft’ was never a word that even passed her thoughts when tasked with describing the man, and she found difficulty in even imagining such a thing. “I would even say he was the happiest I’d seen him in a long time when you two returned. Why, he hasn’t been so joyful since--” she halted her words abruptly, a gasp ending her unfinished sentence. Arturia peered at the woman, hoping she would continue, but was aware of the possible ramifications if she did go on. 

“I am… glad to hear he is alright,” the former king’s eyes left the woman, her gaze placed steadily upon her hands. They opened and closed, as if she meant to grasp her divine blade. 

A sly expression slid upon Siduri’s features, her body nearing Arturia’s. She bent over slightly, her face coming to be equal with the girl’s. 

“Do tell, Arthur. What ever did you do to make our King so gleeful?” the blonde looked up, only to be met with the servant’s unwavering gaze. Her cheeks immediately reddened, and she recalled the moment with devastating clarity. Her small hands cupping his cheeks, his eyes widening with shock, their lips touching… She figured it meant very little to him, but to her… 

Well, it was her first. 

“N-nothing! Your King is a vicious one, he was most likely satisfied with my inability to defeat them without consequence to my wellbeing…” she spoke thoughtlessly. Yes, she decided,  _ that  _ was the reason for his change in demeanor. 

Retaining her simper, she created a distance between them, not in the slightest convinced by the blonde’s false tellings.

“Of course, he is so malevolent,” she teased, giving the former king a prideful side eye, one that almost rivaled her king’s. “His Highness asked that he be made aware when you awoke. He intends to visit and ensure your wellness,” her former wily expression had mostly disappeared, but a hint of cunning still glinted in her eyes. 

“Thank you, Siduri,” was all the response she could muster, uncertain of what to expect when that man would come around. 

_________________________________

The girl’s light steps echoed throughout the empty halls, the dim light illuminating little of what laid before her. The terrain had gradually been ingrained in her mind as she easily found her way through the corridors and walls. Turning another corner, she came upon a welcome sight. 

The flowers flowed gently in accordance with the breeze. Despite the tranquility, she still could not shake the uncertainty that plagued her thoughts. It wasn’t unusual for the girl to be swallowed by her own mind, but it seemed all her doubts and misgivings had been summoned forth. It was uncharacteristic of her to be so outwardly forlorn. The proud king often stoically carried her emotions on her back, but there was no such use for concealing her feelings in that moment. It seemed she only wore her emotions freely when it was provoked anger incited by a specific golden man. 

Lost in thought, it became apparent just how abnormal her circumstances had become, even after participating in the fantastical occurence that was the Holy Grail War. 

The premise itself sounded like the dream of a child, but it was true. Heroic Spirits in the history of the world gathered to battle one another under the control of a Master in pursuit of the Holy Grail, a mystical goblet capable of granting a single wish. Had she not been a part of the war herself, never would such an utopian thought even be entertained by the former king. Even her idealistic nature had it’s limit. 

“What a delightful sight, Arthur. When I’d gone to your chambers, you were not in sight. I was almost worried you had fled,” his sharp words impaled her like his abundant collection of weapons. It was clear he alluded to her declaration of departing, and she groaned. She could never truly prepare herself for his words. Not because he was unpredictable, but rather the opposite. The King of Heroes’ unfailing audacity often brought her to a standstill. However, his usual overbearing arrogance was underlined by something more human: a slight hint of concern. If she wasn’t anymore observant, the emotion would have slipped past her. 

She almost expected him to resume their heated discussion, but knew they were both much too tired to even entertain such a tense conversation.

A gentle sigh escaped her lips. Any response evaded her, so she allowed the awkward silence to extend itself. Gilgamesh scoffed, his arms crossed above his chest. The wind played with clothes, but his body remained unmoving. “I’m glad to see you’ve recovered well. I expect nothing less of my mana” he spoke once more, his gaze subtly drawing to her. He was no stranger to getting her riled up, and he drew a crimson hue over her cheeks. She should’ve known he would not be silent regarding something so scandalous. 

“I refused to be useless and did what I saw fit to ensure my victory. It was no more than a strategic move on my part,” she turned her face away from him, disallowing him from seeing her reddened skin. He snickered, only causing her embarrassment to dig deeper. 

Then, silence. Neither of the heroic spirits spoke, and only the wind orchestrated their awkward encounter. Arturia finally turned to view him, curiosity forcing her lips to move. 

“King of Heroes… What was your wish?” she asked thoughtlessly, realising the folly in her query. This man had not participated within the Grail war, and she spared not a moment correcting her phrasing. “I mean… if you were to have taken part, is there something you would have asked for?” her words slowly faded in volume, nearly entering a whisper. A subtle stroke of surprise colored his expression, but he was quick to recover a smirk. He placed his hands upon his hips and looked down at her. “With our shared endeavors, I would have hoped you knew me better. I’m hurt, King of Knights,” he brought a hand to his heart as if wounded, but he only feigned being insulted. In actuality, he was intrigued. The man decided to indulge after catching her wicked glare.

“I would have no wish. Obsessing over such a futile cup would be tantamount to lunacy,” a golden portal opened at his side, a luxurious goblet emerging from the eminent light. It illuminated their dark surroundings temporarily, but vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Arturia placed her hands over her stomach and straightened her posture, realising her unkingly manner. Her Knights of the Round Table would be disappointed in her behavior, and she refused to give them more to be ashamed of. 

“Have you no regrets? No shame?” It was a genuine question, even if naive. Anyone should know the King of heroes was not rueful, but her purpose in such a query stemmed from a desire to make herself feel better. The man scoffed, tilting his chin skyward. 

“Shame is a manmade emotion. I would never feel something made by mongrels themselves,” he took a sip of his crimson wine. He continued his monologue, “Though your ideals interest me, you are a slave to them. To my understanding, you never indulged in humanity, instead you disallowed yourself to pleasure in favor of your subjects. You were a great king, but a foolish human,” his expression was solemn. “You never allowed yourself to bathe in the light, in  _ your  _ light, King of Knights,” he eschewed her gaze, as if embarrassed. Arturia was surprised, not expecting such inspiring advice. The woman looked once more toward the stars with doleful eyes, but her melancholy was underlined by something different, something hopeful. 

Though this was not the man she battled, he seemed to know her better than she thought. 

Yes, she was never quite prepared for his words. However, now they weren’t stabbing her, but instead lifted her up. A gentle smile curled his lips. “I’m impressed, King of Heroes. I never pegged you capable of delivering such counsel. I thank you,” she spoke. Though she had not forgotten all the strife he’d put her through, it was a king’s duty to give thanks when it was necessary. Gilgamesh treasured the sight, enamoured by the foreign expression upon her face. 

“Perhaps I should ask for something in return for my divine enlightenment,” he looked down on her, his own frame towering over the girl. Despite their drastic height difference, she felt no intimidation. It took much more to frighten the King of Knights. “I do feel obliged to pay tribute, but your desires will not be fulfilled by…” her blush returned at the thought. She was aware of his lust, though was unfamiliar with such endeavors. Her only experience was with her queen, Guenivere, but that was for an heir, not for love or pleasure. The blonde man only laughed. 

“Worry not, Saber. I will not ask for that, but rather I have a simpler request.” He shifted to stand before her, no longer beside her. He took her hand in his, Arturia perplexed by his actions, but not uninviting. Gilgamesh raised her hand to his mouth, pecking a gentle kiss with soft lips upon the back of her hand. His eyes lifted to peer at her. She was beautifully illuminated by the subtle light of the night sky.

“I want you to call me by my name, and I by yours,” their hands slowly descended, but he refused to let go. She never knew him to be so gentle, instead being rather… passionate with his intimacy. It was difficult to separate this man from the one who had impaled her for refusing his marriage proposal, and not to mention the use of his favorite word ‘mongrel’ in regard to any other being, though he never used it much when referring to her. Her mind stirred in thought, unsure of a response, though she refused to give him the satisfying sight of a struggle. 

Their names were not of a small matter to her. They were kings, royalty above others entrusted with the well-being of those who served them. To call a king by their name implied a bond, a relationship unbroken by strife. They were not friends, but were no longer enemies. Her hand remained in his as she thought, and he waited patiently with a smirk. Though she tried to conceal it he was aware of the conflict within her. He certainly found her worthy of calling his name, but her thoughts proved more complex. Amongst his riddled words and ideals, he was a rather simple man; you were either worthy, or you were not. There was no gray in his world of black and white. 

“I suppose for all you’ve done for me, it is only right,” she began, turning away from his gaze. His eyes had such a power over her, and she hated to admit so. His stare suggested so much, and so little. She was often able to determine one’s true thoughts by gazing into their eyes, but he mostly eluded this ability. What did he want in calling her name? The thought flooded her mind. The blonde continued her internal conflict, but remembered his advice. 

_ Shame is a manmade emotion…  _

_ You never allowed yourself to bathe in the light…  _

_ In your light…  _

Arturia turned to face him wearing an unwavering expression concealing any remnant of former adversity. She resolved to no longer entertain such feelings of difficulty. 

“My name is Arturia pendragon, and you will refer to me as such,” she raised her shoulders, her features once more stoic. Gilgamesh smiled. The stubborn, strong-willed swordswoman he had come to give his affection had returned. 

“Gilgamesh, King of Heroes and of all creation,” he leaned forward, his expression satisfied. She did not move even as his face neared hers, though she wanted to. His lips reached her ear, a soft whisper sending chills down her spine. 

“ _ Arturia, _ ” was all he said, yet it alluded to more. Her story was of Arthur, the famed King of Knights who brought light to the darkness, but he cared for Arturia, the girl concealed by such an identity. She fought a grin from staining her lips as a smile grew on his. He walked forward, the girl by his side. This man was not someone she knew, and he appeared different. This man was not her enemy, but not her friend, though maybe fate could permit him to be so. 

The girl suddenly remembered their agreement, assuming he also found her in his pursuit of developing his information of their time in the war. 

“I believe when we last spoke, I told you of the duel between Lancer and--”

“I only intended to ensure your wellness, you needn’t strain your mind recalling those memories,” he interrupted her, taking another sip of his wine. The girl was surprised by his unselfish desires, his aim only being her. The more their conversation continued, the more she feared for her dignity. With almost every word he spoke, he broke down the solid walls she’d tirelessly put up. 

“Very well, then. The hour has grown late, thus I will return to my chambers. Goodnight…” she held her breath, her lips almost failing to say his name. “... Gilgamesh,” she finished, looking him directly in the eye. He smirked, taking her hand in his once more. 

“Goodnight, Arturia,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay new chapter! I was able to finish this faster than expected, and I'm glad for it. 
> 
> Part of the reason I was able to finish so quickly is that this was actually a short story I wrote between them. I only added and changed a few things. It's also a bit on the shorter side compared to other chapters, but it's nonetheless very important to their growing relationship. 
> 
> Also, here's a discord link to the chat regarding this story! This one doesn't expire, so I will be sure to put it in the notes of all my chapters! I hope you can join and have some fun :)
> 
> https://discord.gg/RkPcWueCtc
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter. This is the biggest development in their relationship and it's the first major step towards Arturia and Gilgamesh learning from each other and becoming better. You may even take Gil's advice for yourself, like I try to. Shame and regret are natural to feel, but you shouldn't let yourself be a prisoner to them. Remember, don't feel something made by mongrels!
> 
> Be safe and wear a mask! Until next time!
> 
> Oh, and one more thing. Things may be getting a little bit... spicy soon ;)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm kind of new to this fandom so I apologize if I get things wrong. I know the Grail is corrupted and servants can't wish upon it, but this is an alternate universe sort of thing. I've seen plenty of fan-fictions where Arturia goes to Ancient Uruk, and vice verse, but I always found it hard to believe she would stay there of her own will, even if she did fall in love with Gilgamesh. So to avoid that, why not make it her fault she's there? Now she can't complain! Haha. Anyways, I hope you guys like this story because I have nothing else to do while in quarantine. Please leave comments and thumbs up the story!\
> 
> Wanna join a discord chat for this story? Here's the link! 
> 
> https://discord.gg/RkPcWueCtc


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